HoND: Herlikin
by princessebee
Summary: The story of a young Romani girl betrothed to the King of Thunes, Clopin, and their life together. This story is positively ancient written in 1999 and has A LOT of flaws, but at readers' request I am archiving it here. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

_Hi everyone and thanks for reading. First of all… this story is almost eight years old. I wrote it when I first started out writing and it was the first fanfiction I ever wrote, and there is A LOT that, if I were to edit this, would be immediately and completely scrapped and Never Spoken Of Again._

_First of all, it's a pretty blatant Mary Sue. It was written before I knew what a Mary Sue was and yes, I committed this crime. HOWEVER, for all that, Herlikin is not as awful a Mary Sue as many are. Especially as I wrote more stories and her character developed, she really took on a life of her own and became a character in her own right. I'm VERY fond of her, even after all these years. She's spoiled, bad-tempered, mean and bratty, lively and playful and was enormous fun to write. I loved developing her and Clopin's relationship throughout the stories and had a very clear mental timeline of the various adventures they had. _

_Second, only the most cursory research went into the Romany lifestyle and extreme artistic license has been taken with historical accuracy and facts. It's highly romanticised and quite improbable. It's fanfiction, so it really doesn't bother me to be honest. I'd do my research more thoroughly nowadays, but back then I pretty much did what I wanted._

_That said, I am reposting it EXACTLY as it was written back in the day, word for word. That's right, I'm not changing anything because it's a little (slightly embarrassing but also sentimental) snippet of history for me. The HoND fandom was an important one for me and responsible for some huge events in my life through people I met in it._

_Additionally, this fiction, much to my amazement and delight, still has a small following. I still get emails from people who've enjoyed the fic. Back in the day, I am very proud to say it was amongst the most popular HoND fanfiction, and people loved my little Herlikin, to the point they actually wrote fanfiction of my fanfiction! It was a deep honour, but even more so to know people continue to enjoy it to this day. At some readers' request, I am now posting it on in order to archive it. I hope they will continue to enjoy it and that perhaps some new readers will too, despite its many, many flaws._

-----

**Chapter One**

I was the last born in a family of six, all sons. Well - apart for me that is. My father was a great dark man, an Indian with French ancestry, tall as a mountain and as strong as a tree. My mother was quite his complete opposite - very small and very slender. She was the undisputed ruler of the household. The strength, the rock and the foundation upon which we all grew - the one who dealt out the punishments to my brothers and I when we had misbehaved. Truly appearances are deceiving because her face held a naive sweetness, almost too lovely to look at. But she had a bold and violent temper, and while good and just and a loving mother, she would never tolerate so much as a soiled sari or dusty feet inside the tent.

My father was a great bear of a man, full of laughter and roly polies. He indulged us all, played with us, showed us tricks and magic, taught us our trades. My mother had pleased him by giving him five strapping young boys, each as strong as an ox, in quick succession, so by the time I rolled out he had mellowed and longed for a clean little creature who wouldn't enflame my mother's anger with wrestling and muddy clothes. I was his special pet. My brothers, each one a young rapscallion in himself, treated me alternately like a precious toy and as an endless source of entertainment - on the one hand overly protective and indulgent, on the other, urging me to climb the elephant's back, swing in the trees with the monkeys and play in the mud pretending to be mud monsters.

For my father, I could do no wrong - or at least very little. He indulged my every whim, and thank heavens for my brothers and mother keeping my head firmly out of the clouds, for I did not grow so spoilt as I might've become. Nevertheless, I had a very high opinion of myself, which could prove to be truly very frustrating for those around me.

My father was King of the "Gypsies" in India. Except that we didn't call ourselves Gypsies. Nor we did call ourselves Romany, which was the name our people adopted when the left the golden shores of India for the murky ones of Europe. We called ourselves "sgzany" and that was a Romanian word, not Hindustani at all though we spoke both languages.

It always amazed me that one moment my father would be crawling on the floor, making pig grunts and scratching, while I played the pig herd, then the next he'd be dignity personified, conducting his affairs with all the grace of a true king. I adored my papa whilst taking after him in nothing - I was undisciplined and somewhat inclined to isolated behaviour.

My looks, on the other hand, were definitely from my mother. She was not at all Indian, rather Turkish, hailing from a tribe of peoples who called themselves the Kurds. It was popular for the women of that place to hennaed their hair, but my mother's was quite naturally red and orange, spilling over her shoulders like fire. No one in the family had hailed such hair. Her papa had thrown her mama from their home and would've killed my own mama had not her aunties and uncles persuaded him otherwise. Her name had been Ece, until she had been wed to my papa - he had decided to call her a pretty name he'd heard along the coast - Elisabetta. She was a good wife and did not protest - though whenever she raised her voice, she would begin always: "I, Ece DuPre!" and so on. I had taken my mother's hair upon my head, it contrasting oddly with my olive brown skin, as it did on her. My eyes I borrowed from them each, for one was blue, the other green and capable of cursing any who looked deep enough into them.

I was not an attractive child. Tiny, like my mother, but not bearing her great beauty - a fact I may thank the odd mix of Indian and Turkish, in addition to all the others, blood for. My nose was quite flat and my face round until it came to a point at the chin. My eyes, though large, were slitted and long and my upper lip was thin while my lower was as plump as a cushion.

As a child I so adored my father I wished and wished that I would grow to look as he did, my skin to be as black as his, my hair as dark and curly and tight. I remember once covering myself from head to toe with mud and bringing the wrath of my mother down hard upon my backside.

Perhaps I would not have noticed the difference so much if others had not made me aware of it.

"That is your daughter, sahib?" the other sgzany would laugh. "I don't believe it! She's brown as a berry and burning on top!"

That would be until, I raised my head and looked into their eyes. Then they would laugh again and say; "Aye, she's your daughter. There's not a lady for a hundred miles about who could look such a queen in such simple clothes." For I bore my father's easy complacency, his pride and dignity which I wore like a beautiful sari made just for me.

As our successors in Europe were, we were a group of travelling performers, each of us carefully cultivating specific tricks or feats. We all knew a little magic - real magic that is, not just illusions - and we all worked a little with animals. Unlike our successors in Europe, however, we were not so shunned, nor so poor. We always had plenty to eat, and plenty to wear. No-one went unprovided for. Life was relatively easy for us, pleasurable and always interesting. We were welcomed wherever we went, and so we were very friendly and open both amongst ourselves and with outsiders. We, as travelling performers, were seen differently to the regular cut-throats and thieves, who couldn't make an honest living in art.

And what art!! We were all masters in our areas of expertise and we could perform fit to dazzle the eye. By the time one of my brothers was five my father had taught him acrobatic feats that in Europe children mastered by the age of 12 at the earliest!! My father was a great performer, an illusionist and trickster - he worked with masks he crafted himself and was dazzling to behold - he taught me a little of his skill also, for it was my favourite, but I could never master it as he had done. For him, it was as simple as breathing. My mother taught me how to dance, how to flirt with spins and hip shimmies, and the all important skills in a girl's life - how to cook, clean and sew. But I taught myself how to speak with the animals, and they were my greatest passion. There wasn't a creature alive I couldn't look at without knowing what they were feeling and thinking at that very moment. Most were the same about me, and I only ever met a few who weren't my friends. Like all sgzany, and like most everyone in India, we adored bright colours, rich fabrics, and elaborate dress. I especially was fond of pretty things, in particular jewellery, and amassed a huge collection of cheap junk. I dreamed one day it would all be real, not just the few precious odds and ends I'd inherited from my mother.

In India my life was charmed. The country was beautiful and rich, the people divine and pleasurable to be with, my own family doting and protective. I loved being sgzany, forever travelling, living a performance. I loved the smells of herbs and incense on my mother, the way my brothers carried me on their shoulders when my little legs grew tired. The way we would all sing and tell fairy tales to each other the whole night through. Especially the way my father would spin stories of magic, and show us a new thing with every passing day.

But my story is not about India. I tell you all this simply so you may understand what kind of life I led, and what kind of person I was. My real story, the story I am going to tell you, takes place in Paris, France. The English consider it to be a sunny country in comparison with their own. I considered it a cold and dank place. You will note I speak in the past tense. That's because I'm going to tell you how I learnt to love Paris, and the man who brought me there - my husband.

-----

My sgzany tribe travelled to Paris when I was eight years old. I was sick for much of the journey, my mother holding vigilance by my side, so I do not remember much about it. To this day I associate ships with discomfort and displeasure. Had I been well I would probably have been too timid to go up on deck anyway, for fear of the sea monsters I just knew to be lurking beneath, waiting for the fresh plump blood of a little girl.

At any rate, we docked safely in Paris, and with the fine silks, herbs and spices and pottery wares brought in for import, so were "more blasted gypsies" my papa overheard one man remark as we stepped off the ship. With us were Parisian gypsies who'd gone to India on sabbatical following unpleasantness with those who upheld the law in this strange land. They were pleased to show my Kingly father (the only commoner ever called "sahib" by other commoners) to the legendary "Court of Miracles" as it's infamously known, so we might all meet our fellows, and settle in from the long journey.

The short trip to the Court took much longer than it really does, as we had to take several precautions to ensure we were not followed. Foreign gypsies in strange clothing bearing strange instruments were bound to be noticed and suspected of all the foulest deeds. My health had visibly improved the moment we got off the ship, but I was still weak and uncomfortable, and although I had been determined to be strong for my father, I must confess I fussed a little. "How much further, blast it?" my father rumbled softly to our guide.

"Now now, Sahib. We gots to be careful. No point in making silly moves so that the little Princess should hang before even getting a chance to be well."

That silenced my father, and eventually we made it there. I did not see the entrance at that time, being carried by my eldest brother, Ahvel. But I was aware that one moment we were under blue grey skies, the next it was pitch black and foul-smelling. I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry in the dark, and clung tightly to Ahvel's neck.

Then suddenly there was a wealth of light and I could've sworn we were back in India. The air was thick with scent, and orange, like the heat of day in India, and everywhere I could see brilliantly collared scarves and tents, the smells of roasting meat and spices, the happy babble of a thousand voices singing and joking without a care in the world.

I sat up in my brother's arms and looked around, my heart leaping joyfully in my chest, only to plummet once more to the pits of my stomach and bring back my feelings of nausea and home-sickness. We were still in Paris, what's more, a nasty horrible underground cave! I couldn't see the sky, the clouds or the sun. I couldn't feel the wind or hear the birds or watch the flowers growing! This was the brilliant new place my father had promised to show me? I felt cheated, to be sure!

But my sulky mood went unnoticed as the Parisian King of Sgzany, a man named Harlan Trouillefou, greeted my father with much real pleasure. His subjects came eagerly forward to help my mother and the others of our tribe find a place to put their things and wash the grime from our journey. Ahvel placed me on a soft pile of cushions tousling my hair with a "all right now, little devil, you be fine here" before walking off to assist my mother who fussed and shouted happily, already at ease with a hundred other buxom mothers, all eager to boss their young sons around and make themselves feel useful.

So put out was I, the Little Princess, at being left on her own that I pouted and even squeezed out a few sorry tears in the hopes my misery would be noticed. I still was not altogether well, so my self-pity was somewhat understandable. But no brother pulled a silk scarf from his sleeve to amuse me, no father came grunting like a pig to make me laugh and no mother came with warm milk and gentle songs to comfort me.

So I faced facts: The Sahib's daughter was on her own, perhaps she should act like Missy Sahib and not some spoilt child! I got unsteadily to my feet and wandered over to the huge tubs being filled with hot water for the new comers to wash in. I was glad for this. I feared the Parisian Gypsies would be dirty people, like the horror stories I'd heard about the English. The women all seemed to know who I was, and they touched my hair lightly, and smiled warmly down at me, clucking and pinching my little cheeks. I salaamed prettily, knowing they would find the gesture charming, and they did. They laughed, and said, "Well, little mam'zelle, fancy a lovely bath?"

"Hai." I replied in Romany and they seemed delighted that I had understood them. (For it is an odd quirk of the Romany that they are always surprised to find that strange Romany also know their language.) I was quickly stripped and dunked in the soapy water, scrubbed and soaped till I was giggling and feeling quite myself again.

They left me to soak awhile, and by then I was feeling so much myself I splashed my brother Marcum, who was hammering in the pegs of our tent close by. Giggling I ducked under the water, holding my nose, waiting. But nothing came. I cautiously rose up from the tub and could see him, still with his back to me and a great wet splotch on his clothes too. So I had hit him, and he'd ignored me! How dare he! I splashed him again, a much greater one this time, and once more ducked under. Still nothing. Quite incensed now, I rocked backwards in the tub, and whirling my arms around caused an almighty tidal wave to leap out. Unfortunately at that moment, a young man chose to introduce himself to my brother, and he caught the full brunt of my wave. Mortified I again ducked under the water hoping he wouldn't realise it had come from me, hoping he was a nice gentleman, hoping my brother would defend me!

Moments passed and nothing happened. I had to come up for air. And when I did - both my brother and the young man were standing above me, staring down at me with expressions grim and fierce. I gasped, and wiped the water from my eyes.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Marcum said "You've done it now, Little Devil!!"

"Indeed she has" the young man said grimly "this is an inexcusable felony."

He couldn't be serious!!! Even with those two staring down at me so grimly I felt the overwhelming urge to laugh and had to thrust my head into my hands and muffle my giggles so they sounded like choked sobs.

I felt the young man move towards me, and I sensed his gesture was compassionate, but Marcum stayed his hand. "Watch it sir. She's a tricky one this. Even now she'd be quicker to pull you under than cry tears over her crime."

"Tricky indeed?"

"Oh please shav baro," I lamented, like the beggars begging for alms I had seen in India. "It was an accident, I wanted only to wash the soap from my eyes, it stung so! In my pain I must've misjudged where I tossed the water!"

He threw back his head and laughed then, this dark young gypsy! I was pleased my "crime" was momentarily forgotten, and even more pleased I had entertained him so. I smiled up at him whilst my brother grinned and shook his head. The young man stopped laughing and fixed his sparkling black eyes on me.

"Well, if they don't learn to flirt fast in India! If I wasn't such a devil myself I might almost be seduced by her pretty words!"

Whoops. My ploy had not worked as planned.

"You, chey, spin a lovely story, and just for that I might almost be willing to let you off. However taking into consideration the importance of my rank in the Court of Miracles AND that you have soaked my freshly laundered tunic, I am afraid punishment must be administered."

Full of my father's pride now I drew myself up "And what do you mean "your rank" sir!! Do you know to whom you speak??"

"Do you know to whom YOU speak little devil?" Marcum asked. "This is Clopin Trouillefou. He is the eldest son of Harlan, Bulibasha of the European Rom."

Like a true princess I did not let my facial expression change in the least. But the Trouillefou must've caught a flicker in my eyes because he leant forward menacingly and said "And you know, they say in Europe the Gypsies EAT little girls and boys!!"

I was sure I paled.

"Well come then sister, you've earned your fate, you must deal with it like a woman," Marcum said.

"Step out from the water, chey!" the next King declared.

At this remark I reddened and said haughtily "Most certainly not, I don't care who you are, King of The Land of Nothing! I am naked beneath this water!!"

Clopin shot a look at my brother which clearly said "is she serious?" and my brother returned it with one which stated "you think she's bad now?" Clopin returned his gaze to me.

"Now now, chey! You're nothing but a little runt of a girl! Your nakedness means nothing to a grown-up man like myself!"

"I still refuse to wander the Court without my clothes! I wouldn't suffer a pig to such humiliation! Do you think me a pig, shav baro?"

His eyes widened slightly. "Now now," he breathed "she is a tricky one!"

"Pass me my sari and I shall be eaten with dignity," I said, lifting my pointy little chin and staring haughtily in his general direction.

"But the taste of raw silk does not sit well on my palate, chey! It would ruin your flavour!"

"Well then, I suppose you will not be eating me today! Too bad! In India I would be considered amongst the most delectable of meats!!"

I could see he was amused I was playing along with his threat. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Such a shame. And I'm so especially fond of red-heads too." He winked at me then. Of course, at eight years old, I was unaware of the potentially risqué nature of our conversation, but the wink had an effect on me I didn't like. They both made as if to turn, but Marcum turned back.

"Unless..." he said.

"Unless...?" repeated Clopin.

"We could burn logs under her bath, and cook her that way."

"Now there's an idea sir!! But won't the soap be less than agreeable?"

"The soap will be boiled away!"

"Well now, let's begin immediately!"

I was still uncertain if they meant it or not, but forgetting my supposed dignity I stood up in the bath and screamed "PAPA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Marcum is making me stand wet in the cold air!!"

Yes, I was a little brat. My father burst out of nowhere, his arms full of warm, soft linen. He bundled me tenderly into them and I squealed in delight. He turned to my brother. "Now Marcum! Do you want your delicate little sister to catch cold?"

"Delicate indeed!" Marcum said. "She's from the devil himself!"

A heated disagreement might've broken out then had Clopin not stepped forward. "Sahib, I believe you are called," he said respectfully and gracefully. "Your honourable son meant no harm, your beautiful little girl simply misunderstood our intentions. We wanted her only to step from the bath before the water gave her a chill."

My father was impressed by this speech, and by Clopin's honest and respectful air and let them both go. I will swear Clopin had true noble blood in his veins somewhere, for he protected himself and my brother without exposing me. A lesser man would not have done either. His easy gracefulness reminded me of my father's, and from that moment I took an interest in young Clopin Trouillefou.

-----

Much later on my mother carefully brushed the tangles from my hair, unwinding my hair so it gleamed like burnished gold. I was comfortably attired in warm cotton garments, which unfortunately were all white. This meant I would not be allowed to go exploring the Court, because if I returned with so much as a dirty hem my mother would spank my bottom scarlet. So I sat by the fire and pushed my restlessness into my fingers and toes, and they danced about in frustration, fiddling with all they came into contact with. My mother sighed.

"Herlikin, stop fidgeting, by heaven!" My mother was the only one who ever called me by my full name. All the others referred to me as Herli. My father called me the Madam Sahib, and my brothers more often than not called me Little Devil.

"Mama, I am bored."

"You will sit here like a lady."

"She's no lady, that one!" came a familiar voice.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" my mother said, quite insulted! We both looked up, and who should be standing there but young Clopin Trouillefou. "Mistake me not, Madame, with your guidance she will be the best of all ladies one day. But right now she's a little girl, and I'm sure she wants simply to go and arrange all her pretty things in her tent, and lay out her lovely dolls to play with."

Dolls! Please! I had stopped playing with dolls when I was seven! Not only were they childish, but I couldn't stand the teasing of my brothers. "Begging your pardon, sir," I began, but I stopped when he dropped me a long sly wink. I understood what he was doing then and turned beseechingly to my mother. "Yes mama, please may I go and make ladylike my toiletries?"

My mother couldn't help but laugh at that, and besides, Trouillefou's words had charmed her. "Very well then, young brat" she said, kissing me warmly "But don't get dirty, mind." As an afterthought she added, "If you must go wrestling with your brothers, change, please do your poor mother that courtesy!" That was as good as permission from my mother, and I leaped joyfully to my feet to hunt down Marcum and Erik, the two youngest of my brothers. As I scurried away I looked back, expecting to see Clopin following me, but to my disappointment he was still paying respects to my mother. Put out by this, I stuck my haughty little nose in the air and followed it into my miniature tent, lovingly put together by my father and Ahvel.

Tossing the subdued white garments onto my bedding, I pulled on a dark red cotton dress. Red was my absolute favourite colour and I frequently went through phases where I would wear no other. Kicking off my little sandals (there had been no need for such silly constraints in India) I skipped out, holding my little beating stick in joyful anticipation of giving Marcum a good knock over the head for threatening to eat me.

As I pushed back the embroidered flap I could see Clopin and my mother had been joined by my father, the European Bulibasha and his own wife. As leaders of their respective country-folk they were getting to know one another, becoming friends, exchanging pleasantries and anecdotes. Their wives would gossip and laugh, and Clopin and his brothers would get to know mine. There didn't seem to be much room anywhere in there for me. Little did I know then what being the odd one out would lead to.

A few days later, once we were settled in and comfortable, our tribe was requested to perform for the gypsies, so that they could see what was suitable for the Paris audiences and for when. Ever the consummate professional, my brothers performed with their usual exceptional skill, their acrobatics routine. I could hear the Paris gypsies gasp in awe at the feats they accomplished, and even these jaded performers applauded us. Clopin watched dazzled: I did not know then he was an acrobat himself, and as fine as any of them.

They took a rest then, while the women danced, my mother with them. Not the slow graceful seductive dancing of the Parisian gypsies, but the hot sensual frenzied dance of the sgzany! Great pulsating rumbles rose from the depths of their hips to vibrate the air about them, their arms moved with exceptional grace to enhance the beat. The dancing, for us szgany women, was not simply about the amusement of others, it was a means of paying homage to the earth and to the moon and to the Great Kali Ma, to work ourselves into the trance-like state required to understand all her mysteries, to ask of her help and blessing. We would dance the night away with each phase of the moon in order to divine when best to travel, what path best to take, how best to pay Her homage. And when we danced for others, we danced in order to share with them these beautiful mysteries, the shimmy of our hips, the undulation of our bellies re-enacting the birth of the world.

I watched carefully and as always saw that bizarre look I didn't understand then fall over many of the faces of the men who watched. I stole a glance at Clopin and he too watched with great interest, though perhaps not so lasciviously as the others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Then it was the jugglers, and I the little accomplice who jumped and danced and was generally a nuisance, all to no success for they never dropped a ball. The audience laughed heartily at the end when I became the ball they passed from one to the other, and then they clucked approvingly when I got up and juggled, first three, then four, then five, all the way up to nine objects. I dropped one at the end, deliberately, then all the others in a go and made a great fuss of failure for the audience to laugh at as they pretended to drag me offstage.

It was typical fare, the kind of thing you'd fine in any travelling troupe over the country.

We had a few dwarfs perform acts of comedic value, we had a couple of men and women dazzle with a few illusions - nothing the gypsies marvelled at, for they were experts in illusion also. I amazed with my menagerie - in particular my python Murray and my little white Bengal tiger Chester. who caused a great stir on account of his fur being like new fallen snow), my flocks of parrots and little Divil my monkey.(Indians were the first to discover just how intelligent monkeys and parrots truly are).The great rapport I shared with these creatures was obviously apparent, and the gypsies were silent until the end, where I got the parrots to fly up in front of my little stage and I used a quick trick to disappear from view, where they praised me wildly.

The final act was one my father had worked out for myself and him, and involved our beloved masks. Masked performance was not to become popular in Paris until years later, so we were quite a new experience. The trick of working with masks is to make as though the mask is a part of you, yet an independent part. You must never touch your mask. You just never speak under a full face mask. You must never ruin the illusion. My father had taught me brilliantly, and we created quite a performance of both magic and buffoonery which had the audience alternatively holding their sides in laughter and then gaping in shock, accompanied by the strange feeling that any good masked performer can affect his audience with - that of being not entirely real - of being a mystery.

Then we were done, and the Gypsies whole-heartedly welcomed us into their arms. They were thoroughly impressed, meanwhile I was thoroughly self-satisfied. My brothers were not so pleased with me. Erik strode up to me afterwards.

"What do you mean, wicked little devil, stealing the thunder like that? Our act is OUR act, you're not to take it all yourself!"

"Erik, the audience was bored stupid! They needed something to dazzle them and that something was me."

"You're a fine little one to put on airs" interrupted Luc. "Conceited little brat!"

I pulled a face and would've shoved him away had Harlan Trouillefou's voice not broken in.

"Now now, my fine boys. Let your sister enjoy her moments! She is quite a dazzling performer."

He was beaming down at me with much pleasure and affection, my father meanwhile was bursting with pride. My mother stood to the side, just a faint look of disapproval on her face - she also did not think it fair for me to steal my entire brother's act.

"Yes - she's quite an amazing talent, Hussain. You must be very proud of your little girl. She will be a beauty when she grows up too, no?"

Hussain! No man had ever called my father by his name before! The Two Kings must have grown close indeed!

"Indeed she will, Harlan. She is my pride and joy! The epitome of all I have to offer!!"

My brothers rolled their eyes. They were not put out for they knew my father adored each one of them individually. However, being the little girl, it was always me who was openly praised. It was not good for my ego.

Harlan looked me over carefully before turning to my father again.

"I have something I'd like to discuss with you, sir. Something of a proposition, beneficial to us both."

"Sounds interesting already, Harlan!"

"Splendid. We'll talk while we eat! Meanwhile if we don't go now, while the food is hot, our ladies will skin us alive."

The company turned off to follow the two kings over to the dining area of the Court. I skipped along, once again comfortable in my self pleasure and not caring about my brother's anger. It was Clopin who caught up with me.

"Hey there little Madam! Quite a wonderful show you gave us this evening." His tone was perfectly affable, but there was a little mockery in his eyes.

"Of course" I said, reacting to that "I never give anything but the best."

"Is that a fact mam'zelle?" He stopped and for some bizarre reason I stopped along with him. Laughing he removed his hat and with a long sweeping bow he offered me his arm. "In that case, may I offer you the best of the gentlemen to dine with?"

It was something I would say, had I been a man. I could see he said it not altogether seriously, but I knew Clopin Trouillefou thought quite a bit of himself, and whilst always ready to indulge egotism in myself, I hated it in others. I was a hypocrite through and through.

"I would be delighted, m'sieu. Just lead me to him and I will accompany him with great pleasure."

He laughed uproariously at that.

"Ah you are a devil, little one." He said with a shake of his head. "But then so am I. I suppose I deserved that one."

I didn't reply, just raise an imperious eyebrow.

Still laughing he returned his hat to his head. I noticed with some small degree of pleasure that nearby a few of the younger woman of the tribe watched with envious eyes. I couldn't help but play on that and I scooted quite a bit closer to Clopin. He looked at me with laughter in his eyes, but outwardly he behaved gallantly, taking my arm and leading me gently.

"You're a funny one, little madam. You're the daughter of only the second highest form of commoner yet you conduct yourself as though you're worthy of the grandest palace in all France!!"

"I am!" I said, insulted. "I'm the daughter of a King!"

"The King whose subjects include street performers and fortune tellers!"

"So! What is wrong with that? My father is a man of dignity and grace. So is yours. They are Kings, and their subjects love them! They are as good as any you'll find in a palace."

I saw by the way he started then I had made him think. He gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment and then said:

"Ma petite - you are right."

"Of course I am!" I said huffily. By this time we had long reached the dining area, a great circle encamped around a fire sporting many bubbling pots, from which delicious odours emerged. I sat down with much elegance, modestly arranging my skirts (red once again, with a lavish gold trim I adored), and Clopin flopped down beside me. Admittedly I was beginning to grow bored with him, and wished he would take himself elsewhere. He sat for a few minutes more as we were served our food (chicken with spices) and then turned to me again.

"You're eight, are you now little one?"

"Yes I am eight, though it is not polite to ask."

"You're very smart for a lady of only eight!"

"Yes I know," was my automatic response. This brought him out of his reverie and he chuckled again, chewing thoughtfully on his food.

I cannot believe I have come this far in my tale without describing this dashing young gypsy! Even at fifteen Clopin was a handsome boy to look at, though I would not of admitted it to myself then. Already reaching six feet in height, and still more to grow, his skinny young body was rippled with muscles, the result of much acrobatic practice. His face was long and well shaped, the nose large, the eyes flashing and black, the mouth generous and sensual. He had thick black hair which fell to his shoulders and dark hair was just beginning to speckle his chin. His hands were large and calloused, but they looked elegant and graceful and, I felt, capable of great tenderness. Despite being so lanky he carried himself with the same easy air of self-confidence and pride as my father did. As I did. His eyes sparkled with mischief and a wicked benevolence and Marcum had already told me tales of the tricks and devilry the two planned to get up to.

But although he and Marcum numbered the same in years, and Clopin Trouillefou was a young man obviously capable of much wickedness, you could see he was mature beyond his age. Intelligent and well-spoken, in the few days at the Court of Miracles I had already seen what Clopin's silver tongue, combined with his good looks and irrepressible personality, were capable of. The women literally fawned over him, both young and old alike. The children adored his playful nature, his mock charm, the girls his own age were enamoured with him, his handsomeness, his talent (talents I'd only heard about, not seen so I was sceptical to say the least!) his vibrancy, each competing to be his special lady, and the older women couldn't resist his respectful charm and grace. Even at his tender age he exuded a seductive masculinity, only made more irresistible by his mischievousness.

I, for my part, was sickened by these fawning women, and determined not to be made a part of it! Perhaps that is, in part, why I treated him with such disdain. That and I never liked the sense he was mocking me in some ways. I didn't know it then but it tickled Clopin pink that a little girl of eight should behave like such a grown up woman, talking and carrying herself with all the dignity of a mature lady. He was also attracted to the juxtaposition of these airs and graces with my wicked nature, my desire to play jokes and cause trouble. But I didn't know that, and all I saw was amusement in his eyes, and I didn't like to amuse unless I was seeking to do so.

But after my last comment we sat together in silence, we both of us, I think, listening to the laughter and noise around us, feeling comfortable among the people. Gradually my ears tuned into my father's and Harlan Trouillefou's conversation.

"You see, Hussain, my marriage to my beautiful Delilah was something of an experiment. I was a real rascal in those days and had not my own father insisted I marry her, I doubt I would ever have settled down."

My father laughed at that. "I did not have the same trouble - one look at Elisabetta and I was a shackled man!"

Companionable laughter and then Harlan spoke again:

"The thing is - the experiment was a success. My father had an eye for the kind of woman who'd suit me, and within a year I was madly in love with her and we were producing children like rabbits. The problem I'm having is that my eldest, Clopin, is just the same as I was."

"Ah yes - I've noticed that boy - quite a ladies man. He has the eye."

"Ah, don't get him wrong. He's a good boy, much kinder hearted than I was. He is always "falling in love". Falling in love with what he believes his latest amour to be, and then finding out she is not so. She is not the only one who leaves with a broken heart - or at least she's not the only one until he finds the next love of his life."

"Thinks he's produced a few illegitimate heirs already then?"

"If he has I haven't heard of it - yet. He's going to be the next King, and while I don't mind him fooling around, he really does need to produce a legitimate heir. Gypsies are usually very lax about this, but I strongly believe it should bear the Trouillefou name. This means he will have to get married, but I can't see him choosing to do so - at least, not in time."

"Hmm...I think I know what is coming."

"Hussain - your little girl is unique. She's dazzling! Clopin doesn't mind his harem fawning over him while he wanders the Court, but to settle down and live with someone the rest of his days - he will need a woman who can match him in wit and vivacity. I've never seen anyone more capable of it that your little Herlikin."

"Hmmmmmm...she is my universe. You will need to do some more talking, Harlan."

"She also bears "noble" Gypsy blood - meaning that the Gypsies will take to the idea of continuing nobility. They need a leader, and my boy will be it. He will need boys to continue our lineage. Also, she has already made such a pet of herself here I think the others will welcome her with delight."

"So far she's done naught but perform and tease a few of the other children," as my mother put it.

"She will grow. The performances are enough. She's strong, healthy and cheeky. It's all we need to make babies."

"Hmm...what about the boy? And what about Herlikin herself?"

"They're made for one another. It may not seem so now, but I'm sure of it. We will of course, wait until she's 16, but then I really think it would be mutually beneficial to marry the two. It would also tie a link between our two tribes."

That did it for my father.

"So be it Harlan!"

"Excellent! Now is there some formal way of striking the deal?"

"The old ways are the best ways!"

The two raised their glasses.

"I, Hussain DuPre hereby state that my daughter Herlikin to be betrothed to Clopin Trouillefou, son of Harlan Trouillefou King of the European Gypsies, and that eight years from now the two should be wed."

"I, Harlan Trouillefou hereby state that my son Clopin Trouillefou to be betrothed to Herlikin, daughter of Hussain DuPre King of the Oriental Gypsies, and that eight years from now the two should be wed."

The smashed the glasses together, thus sealing the deal. To break it now would be to bring great dishonour on the tribes. So I, in all my "brilliance" chose that moment to protest.

"Papa NO!" I cried, leaping to my feet and scattering my food bowl to the ground. I noticed then that the greater part of the tribe had been listening with much interest to the deal, and by throwing this tantrum I'd be embarrassing everybody. I looked at Clopin, who had evidently been listening, and he looked as stunned as horrified as I was. That angered me, the least he could've done was look hurt I didn't want him!

"What do you mean no, Herli?" my father asked. "This is an excellent marriage, a wonderful union!"

I wanted to say more, but I could see the others looking. As used to getting my own way as I was, I knew to cry and scream now would humiliate my father. The others would whisper he had brought up a spoilt child. I couldn't do that to him, not even when he had promised me to some lanky, conceited, older boy.

I choked back a sob and said:

"I meant nothing Papa. I will marry him."

The circle returned to their own inner conversations and gossip, but I left it. I ran to my tent and threw myself onto my pillows. I punched and kicked and stabbed them with my whacking stick, and when I'd thoroughly exhausted myself I cried piteously. To think my father, the most understanding man in the world, would force me to marry! He who'd always told me he married for love, true love. I sat there sulking and crying, and didn't hear my mother as she softly entered my tent.

"There there, little baby, hush now" she said, coming closer to brush my tangled hair out of my eyes.

"Mama!!" I wailed.

"I know, I know, but hush now, don't let the others hear and say your papa raised an ungrateful girl."

It silenced my sobs to a whimper.

"Come, get out of this pretty dress so your tears do not stain it."

She helped me out of it and into a comfortable cotton shift. Then she took the brush and sang soothingly to me in Hindustani. My whimpers stopped altogether and I was calm once more.

"Herli, my little baby, I know you think your father cruel, but he would never do something he didn't think best for you."

She'd called me Herli!! Never in my life had she done that, and so I sat up and listened.

"Clopin is a real catch, he is handsome and intelligent, and he will be King besides. He also treats women with much respect. He is not like a womaniser who charms with his tongue and his body and then laughs at his conquests behind their back. He has real goodness in him and a great love and respect for women. He will be a good husband to you."

"I don't want him."

"Herli, you are only a little girl. When you are a young lady of sixteen and he a bold strapping man of twenty-three, you will see him differently. You will swoon, like all the other girls."

"I don't' want to swoon like all the others mama. I want to stand up tall, like myself."

She hugged me "That's my baby. He's the type of man who admires that kind of boldness in a woman. You will grow to love him. You must."

My mother had made up her mind. She approved the match, so I said nothing. I sat there, outwardly in defeat, but inwardly I swore I would never love Clopin Trouillefou, not even if he brought me all the jewels in the world.

-----

The next day he came to my tent, which I thought quite bold of him (although to be fair he didn't have anything to do with the making of the deal). He'd regained his composure, and quite gallantly handed me a blood-red rose, full in bloom.

"The flower seller assures me it is the freshest, so its taste should be quite pleasing," he told me.

I glared at him suspiciously. Who had told him I liked to eat flowers? Nevertheless, I couldn't resist the scent and shape of the rose, and I'd never tried one besides, so I took it ungraciously from him, and then minding my manners, I pulled off petal by petal and chewed on them. He watched, absolutely fascinated. The rose was delicious, with a tang I'd never known before, and I was sorry there was only one. But whilst I loved the gift, I minded my promise and looked at Clopin coldly.

"I do not want to marry you." I told him.

He grinned. I was enflamed my rejection did not affect him, but I held onto my temper.

"Why ever not, little madam?" He said, pulling a mock frown over his features.

"Because...because...because you were going to eat me!" I snapped back.

He grinned larger at that. "Who knows...I may yet eat you one day years from now."

Wicked man to say something like that to such a young innocent girl! But then I did not know what he really meant, I only thought he intended one day to cook me and serve me up.

"You better not!" I said, incensed "I'll tell my Papa, I will!"

He only laughed a little.

"I'm glad you liked my gift, mam'zelle. I wish you good day with all sincerity."

And catching up my hand he kissed the palm of it warmly. I was so enraged I could do nothing but stand there and sputter like a fool as he bowed his way out of my tent, laughing still. I made a new promise. No matter what I would make a fool of Clopin Trouillefou!!

But I did not get an opportunity with that stop in Paris for by the next day, my tribe had packed up and were preparing to tour around the country, and perhaps some of its neighbours.

My father and Harlan clasped hands vigorously and bid each other farewell. They also bade one another to not forget their deal, and with a few smiled parting words, we left the Court of Miracles. I wasn't to see it again for another eight years.

The thing you must understand about my father and Harlan - as Kings of their respective tribes, they did not look any different, or act any different from the other gypsy. The difference was in the way they composed themselves. They did not outwardly impose any authority, unless the occasion should arise when they needed to. Of course their subjects respected them and theirs, but not to the extent where there was an actual social class distinction among us. Walking along the streets, they looked the same as any other. You could not point and say "there, that is the King of the Gypsies", unless one judges on strength of character alone, and few do. They did not have more wealth, nor more comfort. They had to work as hard as anyone else to stay clothed and fed. They merely guided the tribes in all that they did.

I learned later that day from my brother Erik that Clopin had had a huge fight the night previous with this father. Apparently he'd been asserting his right to choose his own bride. He'd been so charming this morning!! He was deceptive that was sure, and I found the prospect of marriage to him even less appealing than before.

However, I was not one to dwell on something so far into the future, and for the next six months I suffered through our short tour in France. I placed Clopin and the future into the back of my mind and concentrated solely on performing. We Sgzany learned quite a lesson in France. Whilst our performances were received with much praise and acclaim, we found the pickings very slim. We had a charmed life in India, as I said before, and were accustomed to being rewarded quite generously for our entertainments. Here we had to learn how to conserve money. There wasn't always quite as much food to go round, and we had to take care of our clothes and costumes with great care, for so long as we were in France we would not have money to replace them willy-nilly. For awhile I could not understand why exactly my father would chose to come to a c country where he was hated and feared, where every day was a fight for survival - I do know. He sought to revisit his ancestry, his roots in France. He was of mixed blood, and more Indian in his ways than anything else, but his heritage still lay here in France. At the time I was furious I had to suffer for his whims, but now I understand in my own way, what drove him there.

So with that and the fierce bitter cold I could not get used to, I was well pleased to reboard the ship for India again.

-----

The journey back was much the same as the first, though I did not get sick this time. I stayed well below deck though. The toss and turn did not bode well with me, and the ship itself was such a huge cantankerous beast. My mother and I shared the same fear - shipwreck, and an eternity below the depths of the sea.

But we made it home safely and within a week were back to the old routine. I found Clopin not so easy to put from my mind once we were home, for my mama, being the perfect wife and mother she was, immediately set up my "glory box" or "Chest of Treasures" as we called it. As the years passed, she piled this up with crockery, linen, clothes to wear as a wife, ornaments, and jewellery. She wanted me to have the best of everything and bartered for it long and hard in the marketplaces of India.(You've never seen a marketplace till you've been to one in the East, they are more than an experience, every turn is an adventure!!) She also refined my sewing skills, my cooking ability, and showed me all the secret ways to keep a caravan or tent spotlessly clean. It also included finding a sgzany fluent in French who could teach me all I needed to know.

How I hated those lessons, for they could only remind me of my future prison, chained to a man I didn't love for the rest of my life. Despite all this, I learned well, and I was soon a housekeeper to rival my mother, no small feat I assure you.

But that was not the sum total of my last eight years in India. I think as a protest to what I would be forced to do, I rebelled somewhat and grew more unpleasant in temperament, something my papa and mama never really saw in me. Although sgzany were much more lax about letting their girl children run around, I was still expected to control myself. Geraud, an old friend and assistant of my father's, was expected to stay with me at all times, and as I grew older I was gradually forbidden from playing with my brothers as I had been. So apart from working with my brothers on our routines, I was supposed to sit quietly and like a lady.

I rebelled against this too, so difficult had I become to get along with. I didn't like many people much, and they didn't like me either, for I rarely spoke and was generally unpleasant to all. I cannot count the number of times I gave Geraud the slip by tripping him up in the mud and running off into the jungles. I became a true loner, withdrawn except when performing, and unsociable.

I played in the dirt and the mud. I tickled the elephants back and kissed him, I swung in the trees with the monkeys. I explored the vivid humid jungles and played with all the manner of creatures there. Most were friendly and loved having such a strange and clumsy beast to play with.(you must remember, no matter how excellent the human acrobat, the animal is always better. They don't "civilise" the natural grace in themselves) Some, like the poisonous snakes, were not so. I have always wanted to befriend them, they are so lonely all the time. But their loneliness suits them, as the cobra told me once.

I saw him just over the way, slithering over a rock as I was clambering one over just opposite him. Our eyes locked. Any other human would've run away screaming fit to wake the dead, but not me. I looked at him and said hello in the language that all animals understood.

"I am like you, but my skin is different," I said, "just the same inside".

His forked tongue darted from between his cold lips. They never answer me, but this one did. Perhaps, being royalty, he could see I was as well.

"Leave me be," he whispered to my mind. "I do not want friends, leave me be."

And because it was his home I was in, I did leave.

I changed only little over the years. I was still haughty, though gradually I stopped being as conceited. I still loved my pretty things, but I rarely looked at myself anymore. This was just because I so rarely associated with people it didn't occur to me to be overtly concerned about my appearance.

That changed again as I grew older still, but in my early adolescent years I was considered a very strange and wicked child, as I went about my business, slipping from my protector and causing a general mischief. Gradually my mother and father did become aware of my behaviour, and for the first time in my life my father instilled discipline within me. I knew my mother despaired of me ever making a decent wife. It wasn't enough I could do all was required - I was wicked and stubborn.

I trained dozens of animals, of every shape and size, for the other sgzany, and soon I became known for my gift - if you had a beast giving you trouble, take it to Herli - she could fix it. It was the one gift I never accepted money for - for in my eyes I was helping the beast, not the human. That was reward enough for me.

My love of animals was also my one concession to kindness in those years, for in all other things I was a terrible fright.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Alas, my brothers grew older, Erik (who was twelve when I was eight) joining them altogether too quickly. Soon they lost interest in staging adventures with their little sister - they had things to think about, like family, forming their own tribes perhaps, things that didn't include me. The other children in the sgzany tribe were all older too, and there were no children thereabouts I could play with. Even had there been, very few would want to play with me. I was too cruel and too wild. Perhaps that is why I grew wild and reckless. Always seeking attention in some way. As I grew older, I almost stopped being a loner in that I would almost be civil and sociable with those I met. But it was purely a need for people to look and say "there is the King's daughter". I took especial pride that I never needed a man to help me over a river, that I never fainted at the sight of blood, and overall, that I never needed a man to love me.

Of course I grew into a young woman. Perhaps in England I would have been considered beautiful, despite my red hair, but not so in India. Oh there were those who were attracted to my pale skin, but on the whole no-one especially sought me out. It was a good thing I was betrothed, for no man displayed that kind of interest in me. I would've ended up an old maid. Those who did, did so merely out of lust - curiosity about what a fair skinned woman would be like. Because I had a reputation for my hellion ways they also thought I would be easy to seduce.

It wasn't snobbishness, or even loyalty to my absent fiancée that caused me to reject them all. It was simply disinterest. Like I'd said to my mother on that fateful day, I wanted to stand tall like myself. So I did.

Like all the other sgzany women I became a living breathing object of sensuality. It ran through my veins like a fire and was hard to quell. But being the proud little thing I was, I wanted only to satisfy my passion with one I truly loved. Although I was a virgin I had an idea of my sexuality from the surrounding women. Using your charms to catch a man was impressed strongly upon the sgzany women, and although it was never done so with me, (I had a husband waiting in the wings) I could follow the example of others. I settled down a little as I reached my 14th year. I stopped isolating myself in the jungle and switched to isolating myself in my art.

I loved to sing and dance, and work with my masks. I loved my acrobatic tricks and my art. When I look back I think I involved myself in so much life, and so many activities to avoid the inevitable - that I would have to leave this charmed place, this beautiful place. Here people were used to my oddities and snappy temper. In Paris they would certainly be less forgiving.

It never occurred to me to make a change in my personality so I would not have to face this prejudice. That is - not until I fell in love.

-----

His name was Raghu, though I'm not sure it was his real name, and he wasn't sgzany. He was a noble Indian gentleman who I noticed watching us perform on more than one occasion. He was not handsome, but he had a well-shaped face, and very soulful eyes. He watched us with thoughtfulness, only the intensity of his gaze suggesting he might be enjoying it all.

As time went by I came to look forward to him being there. Of course at that time I didn't know his name, he was simply the Nobleman. Many of the other performers had noticed his repeated visits, and at times he was the object of much discussion amongst us. I would wonder as he came - who is he? Where does he come from? Why does he always look as though he were thinking all the great thoughts of the world? He aroused my curiosity in a marvellous way. I gradually learned him by heart, as I would watch him from the outskirts, or from the corner of my eyes as I performed. I knew everything, from his jewelled sword, to the small birthmark just above his right eye. He was intriguing to us, there was no doubt of that. But as time went by, and all he ever did was stand and watch, the others lost interest and soon forgot about him altogether.

Then one day he wasn't there. I seemed to be the only one who noticed the Nobleman's absence. Everyone else saw just the crowd. I didn't sleep well that night, and although it was noticed I was not myself, I wasn't liked enough to warrant inquiry.

Then one day we had a new member to our tribe. He was brilliantly garbed in simple clothes, like ourselves, and dusty from the road, but we could all see he wasn't one of us. His clothes were too fine, his methods too refined, his speech too courteous. He asked my father if he could join our tribe, and when asked what talents had he, he said juggling and sword play.

"We have already jugglers! Far too many!" my father said, his suspicions aroused.

"Sahib, I am willing to learn whatever you have to teach me" the man said politely. My father was intrigued by him. There's no reason a spy would be sent amongst us, but why would a nobleman want to join sgzany?

"Come into my tent" he said gruffly. "We'll discuss it there."

I do not know, to this day, what exchange went on between my father and Raghu, but when they emerged my father told the tribe that Raghu was now one of us, and would be treated accordingly. Raghu looked well pleased as he turned away, and curious as the others, I leant forward to stare a little closer. I saw the birthmark above his right eye and knew then that it was The Nobleman!! My mother called me then and I was forced to go inside and continue work on my linen and dresses. But I'd made up my mind to find out what I could about the newcomer.

I didn't get my opportunity that day, nor the next, but from what I heard, Raghu was having a hard time adapting to the sgzany way - particularly performing. He had to deal with their mercilessness - there was no sympathy or coddling if mistakes were made, there never had been for anyone. So he would simply have to start over and continue his practice. I heard he was not particularly excellent at anything, except for sword play, but as we were performers, what good was that? He became the odd job man, someone who did a bit of everything in many of the acts, but was never given a main role. Since then my roles in the circus had been reduced (I didn't like that but what could I do?) to the mask act with my father and my animal performances. So I never actually worked with him myself. But he was there during my rehearsals, and of course during performances.

One night I had an opportunity to creep from my tent. I took it, of course, and went straight to where Raghu was tending his horses. He jumped when he saw me, and his horse skittered a little at his sudden movement. He relaxed again when he saw it was me, watching him quietly through cold, curious eyes. "You shouldn't be out so late, child" he informed me, rubbing his horse's neck. "Your father will have your hide, and mine too, if he catches us together."

"My father doesn't know I'm out here," I informed him. "I came to speak with you."

He looked at me, alarmed. Why would anyone seek him out? I could see he was thinking. His next words echoed those thoughts.

"Because," I said, with just a tad of malice, "I know you to be the Nobleman who watched us many nights in a row."

He was visibly shocked at that. He had thought himself unrecognised. But he came towards me, bravely. Clasping my hands in his own he looked at me with pleading in his eyes.

"Please, child, I beg of you! Do not tell anyone that you recognise me! It could have disastrous consequences!"

In my typical petulant way, I yanked my hands from his.

"Why should I keep silent? I would like to know why a nobleman joined a tribe of street performers! I shall do all I can to find out!!"

The look he gave me then was so sad that it reached a place deep inside me I'd almost forgotten was there.

"Very well," I sighed, relenting. "I won't tell anyone." His eyes lit up and he thanked me profusely. "But I would still like to know," I grumbled.

"Knowing is not always pleasure, child," he said. "Best we keep it this way for now."

He smiled at me then, and I found myself nodding, agreeing with him.

"You best get back, now. Before you're noticed to be gone."

I did that too, but not before pausing to look hungrily at him.

That night all my dreams were filled with Raghu and his smile. After that I found every opportunity to be in his presence. I realised quickly I was falling in love with him, though I could find no reason for it. He did not match my image of a perfect man at all, but after a while I began to think my idea of a perfect man was wrong. Raghu was educated, he was also very kind-hearted and brave. But he was very sensitive and shy, and I, so unused to being nice to someone, found it difficult to draw him out of his shell, without coming out of my own. But the change in me was noticed by everyone as I became slightly more sociable. My freedom was still restricted, but when we joined the tribe for meals or rehearsal my more civilised air was apparent.

Gradually I became aware Raghu was intrigued by me also. After that we found ways of sneaking off together to go and talk in the jungle. He was the first person I ever opened up to, and I believe I loved him also because I was a better person with him. Although I enjoyed my little ways and were quite comfortable with them, I was beginning to find it hard to deal with myself. It gave me a thrill to be cold and snappy and arouse people's irritation, but it was also very lonely. With Raghu, his soft voice and gentle ways, I stopped biting, and began to purr. But it was only so with him. With the rest of the tribe I was as I had always been.

Raghu attempted to teach me to read, but I grew frustrated with it and refused to learn. I taught him more tricks, which he grew very adept at, and so earned himself more respect among the sgzany.

He commented often on the paleness of my skin, something I had grown quite irritated by. I trusted few men, for I knew they judged me immediately on my appearance, and whether trying to sleep with me, or finding me unattractive, I was always mocked and made to stand out because of it. I do not believe Raghu found it attractive, though I think he liked it. He loved my hair, that I know, and would play with it for hours.

I realised quickly into our semi-relationship he was holding something back - a reluctance to give his feelings over to me completely. He cared for me, that I know as fact, but not to his full potential. I, meanwhile, believed I had given all my feelings to him, and couldn't understand his holding back.

We sat on the banks of the river one afternoon, and I knew we would have to head back soon so we would not get into trouble. He had been unusually quiet that day, and I hadn't known what I should say to him. But then, before we left, he asked me quietly, staring off intensely over the river:

"Herli, why do you treat me so differently to the others?"

I looked at him in surprise. It hadn't occurred to me the difference in treatment would be so obvious. I shrugged.

"I don't know. You are nicer than them. I like you."

He turned to me "But why don't you like them?"

"I never said I didn't!"

"You have never a kind word for any of them."

I shrugged again, faint unease in my stomach.

"It's nothing really. I guess I'm just a bad-tempered old woman." I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back; just looked more thoughtful than ever.

"Come. Let's return," he said grasping my hand, and helping me to my feet. We would have to re-enter the camp separately, and the walk back I always hated for it meant we would soon have to return to pretence. But he did not hold my hand so tightly as usual, and when we got back he only kissed my cheek once. I was hurt by his coldness and re-entered the tribe with my temper flaring. Kavita, a friend of my mother's, was siting nearby, her fat baby son on her knee.

"Your mother's looking for you, Herli," she told me "and she's furious."

I grimaced in frustration. The baby on her knee began to cry. I looked at it in irritation.

"Shut up, you fat silly lump!" I snapped at it, only causing its cries to grow louder.

Kavita frowned. "Herli, how can you speak to a bab-"

"You too old woman! Nasty stinking busybody!"

She looked horrified. It's true, I was snappy and cruel but I never openly insulted anyone like that. No doubt had any of the men been nearby, I would've been spanked within an inch of my life, whether princess or not - my father would support it later. But the tribe was elsewhere except for the three of us - and Raghu.

As I turned to stomp away from Kavita I saw him on the other side of the camp, looking at me with horror and confusion. I was mortified he'd heard the exchange, but I pushed my shoulders back and glared at him as if to say "well?"

He said nothing, just turned and walked to his tent. I felt distressed then, but I merely went to my own tent beyond, to face the scolding of my mother.

-----

We didn't talk for several days after that, nor did we get a chance to sneak away. I had the distinctly unpleasant feeling he was avoiding me, and I again took a great risk in the night to confront him, pushing up the back of his tent and crawling under.

He gazed at me with a mixture of amazement and fear and then told me in a quavering voice I should leave, immediately.

"Why" I snapped. "And certainly not before I find out why you've been avoiding me these last few days!"

He sighed, and again that look of sadness came over his face.

"Herli, we're not meant to be together - " he began and I cut him off.

"Why not?? We love each other don't we? Aren't I always good to you? Don't I always listen with understanding?"

He stopped me. "It's not that. It's other things."

"Like what?" I demanded.

"For a beginning, you're promised to another, though you've never told me yourself." There was hurt in his voice.

"So what? I always was of the idea we could run off together."

He looked alarmed. "No Herli, absolutely not. It's not meant to be."

The effect of what he was saying began to sink in, and my heart knocked painfully against my chest.

"It is meant, Raghu. Don't we always support one another in everything, don't you enjoy my company?"

"Herli - this isn't easy. It's not anything you've done. Not to me. But there's something in you I can't reach. Something I don't want to reach."

I stared at him for a moment before responding.

"It's because of what I said to Kavita the other day, isn't it?"

"It's not just that."

"You shouldn't worry. I talk like that to everyone!"

"That's what it is."

Again silence.

"I don't understand, Herli. You're so sweet and kind and full of life with me - but with the others you become like some sort of demon. You're conceited and opinionated, and you don't give them the time of day. Your tricks are not fun - they are cruel. I can't believe this is the real you, yet you do nothing to stop it."

I stared at him again for several minutes more, weighing up carefully what he had said in my mind.

"Raghu - if you run away with me, I promise I will change."

He shook his head.

"I swear it!!! I don't think I am truly like this either. I can't say what made me this way, but you have helped me see the error!! Please say yes! We'll have a wonderful life together."

He shook his head again, and I grew desperate, and angry because I wanted him to stay so badly.

"Why not?" I snapped thumping my hand hard on the ground. He hushed me hastily.

"If it were meant to be - then Herli you would be different with them also. You say this now only to please me. I can't accept that, it isn't genuine. You need to make this change on your own."

I sat back, astonished and hurt. My mind raced wildly. At that time I couldn't consider being with anyone else and it shocked me Raghu did not feel the same. My pride and my temper came to my rescue - so I thought.

"Coward!" I snapped at him "That's what this is about! You are frightened!"

He shook his head again. "No, Herli, that's not it at - "

"Of course it is!" I interjected. "You were running from your nobleman's life to hide with us, now you're running from love, because you are a miserable stinking coward!"

I could see from the look on his face I'd now gone too far. He'd gone somewhere I would never be able to reach him again. But it was too late to stop now.

"Scum!" I hissed my voice growing louder. "Nothing but scum, for all your learning!!! Horrible male scum, nothing but a little coward, cowering in your little hole, hiding there, never daring to live, never daring to breathe, never daring ANYTHING!!"

My shouts had awakened the others, and within a few seconds the tent flap was pulled back and my father and the other men stood there, their faces fierce, torches glowing brightly.

"What's going on here?" my father bellowed. I knew we both looked terrified. "Did this man hurt you Herli?"

More than anything else that happened that night the thoughts that raced through my head at that moment never cease to bring me shame, for my initial reaction was to shout yes papa he has hurt me, he has ruined me!!! Just to see Raghu punished for rejecting me. But I was not entirely hardened, thank god, and I just shook my head.

"No, papa. He simply refused me a favour I asked him."

Of course what leapt through my father's mind was the worst thing possible, and now it looked like his daughter was a hussy. He bade the others hurry back to their tents, and shut the flap, stared at me with a fear I hadn't seen before in his eyes.

"What favour would that be, girl?" he asked hoarsely.

"I wanted him run away with me." I said bravely. Brief relief flashed over my father's face, then a look of hurt and anger.

"Run away, girl? Why? Have we ever been cruel to you? Haven't you always had everything you wanted?"

It was the look of hurt on my father's face that got to me then. That he should be upset I tried to leave him. I felt my first tears in many long years well up in my eyes, and I choked out a reply.

"No papa, you have always been an angel. I'm rather surprised you all haven't run away from me!" So saying I pushed my way out of Raghu's tent and ran to my own, sobbing all the way.

My father and Raghu came to an agreement during the night, and the next day Raghu packed his things and left us. The others saw him off, and I watched secretly, from a nearby tree, my heart full of anguish.

He paused as he slowly led his horse and cart out of the camp, and turned to look at the very tree I hid in, his eyes again full of sorrow. Then he was gone. I never saw him again.

And I never found out why he joined the sgzany.

-----

After that I was a changed woman. Still a loner, still proud, I grew stronger and prouder still. More determined than ever to stand on my own and have no help from anyone.

But my personality changed also. I had learned a harsh lesson from falling in love with a man who couldn't bear unkindness to others, and I made a concentrated effort to be respectful and kind, helpful and less cruel. This change was treated first with suspicion and then impatience. It wasn't welcomed in a long time, and that was a harsh lesson in itself. Eventually, however, they began to treat me with a genuine respect, and I believe some of them even grew to like me more.

While still proud I was no longer haughty and I no longer snapped. I also retired entirely from performing. The only thing I did now was play with and tend my animals. I did sit demurely at home, and work on my Chest of Treasures without even a murmured complaint. My father was distressed by this change in me - not even in the height of my wickedness had I ceased to be his little princess - but my mother thought it for the best.

I believe everyone knew what happened. They spared me little sympathy, for the all believed it would be good for me. It was. For many months I sat, all the life and energy drained out of me, contemplating my months with Raghu. I was kind to children, helpful to my mother, and respectful to the other men and women. But I also had no life in me. I felt like a dead thing.

It was a long time before I got over Raghu, at least for a young woman. Many months. But eventually the pain ebbed away, and whilst I still retained a soft spot for him, the energy begun to come back to me. A far more gentle mischief came back to me, and I once again felt the desire to leave my tent and go exploring. I no longer played cruel tricks, instead I played games with the children. I wasn't one hundred percent an improved personality, that's certain, but I was better than I was. I was still quiet and didn't share knowledge or anything of myself with others, except for my animals who still brought me the greatest comfort, and I began to once again take the opportunities to sneak off to the jungles. I was more friendly than before, though I kept a coldness about me - I think it's an essential part of my personality and I can't help it. But on the whole I was changed for the better.

Gradually, gradually, my company became more enjoyable. My brothers didn't groan at my approach, and I was greeted where I went now, instead of being looked askance at. My papa once again was proud of me, though I was now different to the little girl he'd been proud of before. But under his continued encouragement, my humour came back, and I was more lively and active.

These changes did not mean I wanted to get married any more so than before, and thoughts of it were still enough to put me in a bad humour. I also feared that once I left India I would become again what I had been - that nasty, cold and cruel girl. That frightened me, and my defences as always, were my pride. Cover anything you're feeling with a mask of indifference - and no-one need ever know. I had grown to like being liked and I didn't want that to change.

But to admit this would be to concede to a weakness, and I wanted that even less. It seemed I would have to take my chances.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It wasn't long afterwards that I turned fifteen. As the time for my departure grew nearer, my parents became less vigilant and allowed me more freedom than I had ever been allowed in my life. I believe this was so I would be able to say goodbye to all around me at my own pace, although at the time I wondered if they hoped I would befall an accident so I wouldn't have to go. Before I realised it the year was nearly over and I would be 16 in only four full moons more.

It was time to leave.

My mother had had my trunk all packed by the time I returned home one evening, Chester (now a fully grown and extremely handsome tiger gentleman) by my side and Divil (who was, alas, ageing intolerably) on my shoulder, a bundle of fish I had caught on that lazy day when I'd had nothing better to do strapped to my belt.

She frowned when she saw that.

"Herlikin-Elise, when you are a wife you will have to watch yourself - soiling your clothes does not make a good impression on others, and men are often judged by their wives."

It seems so unfair doesn't it, to be told to make a good impression for my husband? Actually we were far more relaxed than a lot of people. My father adored everything about my mother and would have burst with pride even if she had walked in with her head on backwards. A hearty and vibrant woman was the spice of life he claimed, and many of the men seconded this. My mother was merely being mindful that others may not be so accepting.

"I want to marry Clopin Trouillefou even less than I did eight years ago, mama!!! If he doesn't like my soiled dress he can go to hell!"

"Hush now, don't speak so strongly, wicked, wicked child! If I were Clopin I'd have you over my lap and belt your bottom raw for that one!"

"What, like a child?"

"Exactly, little one. You behave like a child, I've no doubt he will punish you like one."

I didn't say it but I thought Clopin Trouillefou is a dead man the day he lays a hand on me.

"Now, little one. Your trunk is all packed with everything you will need for the journey and beyond, and your Chest of Treasures stands waiting. You leave India in a week, but you must leave us tomorrow for you need to travel to the Docks."

Tomorrow? I had no idea it would be so very soon! There had been some very large talk behind my back and no mistake!

"I'm so glad you made me aware of this mama!! And you've given me such time to prepare!! I don't feel rushed at all!!"

I was hurt and shocked. Tomorrow I would be bundled off to marry horrible stinking Clopin Trouillefou and bear his grotty children!!

"Shush and don't you dare speak to me with such sarcasm! You're not so old I can't take my belt to you!! Geraud, your father's dearest assistant, will accompany you the entire trip. He and Erik will drive you and your things to the docks tomorrow in the small cart. Erik will return to us, Geraud will continue on with you. He will leave you with your new family in Paris, however. They will have plenty to take care of you."

I thought she seemed so callous and matter-of-fact until I saw the glint in her eyes. She turned away hastily so I mayn't see her tears. Poor mama! I was her only daughter, and tomorrow I would be travelling far, far away over the sea.

Suddenly, she began to pull off all her most precious jewellery - her heirlooms. She put them into a leather sack - her ruby ring, the emerald earring, the necklace set with sapphires, pearls, and diamonds. All in real gold. They were the only things of exquisite value we owned, apart from some handsome pieces of furniture. She placed the leather sack in a small carved chest which she then wrapped in several silk scarves, and placed in my trunk.

"Mama, what are you doing? Those are your heirlooms!"

"That's right, Herlikin-Elise. For me to pass onto you. You must have them now."

"Mama, you are supposed to wait until death! You - you're not dyin - "

"Don't be foolish, child! I'm in my prime! Better I give them to you now, than die knowing you will never get them!"

She bustled off then to finish preparing supper for my father (my brothers all having since moved into tents with their own wives), leaving me to think. Mama would not have given me her precious jewels unless she thought we wouldn't meet again. I had never given it any consideration - it seemed impossible to think we wouldn't - but now - my parents were getting on in years. The trip to France was both long and expensive, and needed much preparation and organisation of the tribe. It hit me suddenly that this night was probably the last I would ever have with them. My insolence over being forced to go gave way to sorrow suddenly, and I wept miserably over the lovely carved jewel-box my father had given my mother as a wedding gift, which was now mine.

But that last evening I showed no unhappiness to distress my parents. We ate together the same as always. My father put in great effort to appear jolly and at his usual pace, but I noticed the change in him. There was a great sorrow underneath his smile and I knew I was the cause. I did not want to cause my beloved father any misery. For his sake I put in even extra effort to smile and appear well-at-ease, and I believe it helped him somewhat.

I slept not a wink that night, and was washed and dressed when my mother came in to awaken me. Geraud, and Erik, my darling brother, loaded my trunks onto the cart, and we were ready to go.

Then I turned to my parents. I tried so hard to bite back the tears, but they spilled over.

"Papa!" I cried, throwing myself into his arms.

He hugged me back, fiercely, and kissed the top of my head.

"Now, now, Madam Sahib," he said hoarsely. "Be a good girl and do your papa proud."

I nodded tearfully, and he released me. My mother and I embraced just as fiercely.

"Be a good girl by him, Herli. He will be good to you if you are to him."

"Alright mama, I will do my best."

She pushed me back.

"You have to go now."

I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand and turned to find Erik waiting to lift me into the cart. He and Geraud got in beside me, and to my joy I found Chester there also, waiting for me. I would not be so alone then. Geraud clicked to our little donkey and we were off.

-----

I don't need to describe the journey. It took place through some countryside and the small seaside town. It was rough, but not terribly uncomfortable, and I was very sad throughout it.

While I said goodbye to Erik, Geraud loaded my trunks into our quarters. They were small, dank and dirty, for we weren't rich by any means. Erik embraced me hard and told me to be a good girl. I was getting pretty sick of being told to be a good girl, I can assure you. Then he left, with not even a glance back. It smarted, but I knew now it was the time to behave like the young woman I was and not a baby. So I bit down on my lip, and took Geraud's hand. Chester leaped in effortlessly beside me, and we three went below deck to settle ourselves in for the long and unpleasant journey.

I was comforted not just by the prescience of Chester, my dearest friend, but by Geraud. He was blindingly loyal to my father, and I knew he would kill for me, risk his own life, and not once leave my side until he had delivered me safely to Paris. Honour was so important to us all, and if I were to take ill with a sea fever he would lay his face next to mine and inhale every breath I exhaled, so that he too would become ill and die, to show all he had failed in his duty.

That kind of loyalty and friendship is greatly soothing, and whilst still sad to be leaving my home, probably forever, I did not despair as I might've had I been alone.

Just before they cast away, I climbed up on board and stood at the rail to watch my life grow slowly smaller and smaller. The warm orange shores resplendent with spices and glorious people drifting further and further beyond my reach. I stayed on deck I don't know how many hours, but when I finally turned to go below again I could no longer see India on the horizon. It wasn't even a speck in the distance. It was nothing. It was gone.

So I was resigned to thinking of France - France where the people wore tight, constraining clothes, where magic was forbidden and I couldn't dance to an intoxicating drum on the street if I felt like it. Where I would be an outcast, not the exotic bird I was back home. Where I would be expected to cook and clean and only speak when spoken to.

The actual gypsy life I would be living, the one I had observed eight years previously, seemed to have slipped my memory. I remembered only what the sgzany tutor had told me of the country, of its people. But then - though very optimistic, I was a dreamer whose romanticised view was not always close to the reality.

That night I wept once more, and it was Chester who came to comfort me, he who had always listened to my woes, whose eyes had always sparkled with humour at my tricks, and who had always secretly followed to protect me when I went on my adventures although I had told him to remain at home. I buried my face in his thick white fur, and he kissed me with his warm golden breath and purred to soothe me. He was better than a blanket, and I spent the night in comfortable warmth, when I finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted from crying.

We finally arrived in Paris many weeks later, the three of us thoroughly sick of the water and the confines of the boat. At one point I was convinced death awaited us, as we battled it out in a storm, but no - we made it safely through. Unfortunately I had sworn that if we did, I would make Trouillefou a delicious meal each night - and blast it, honour, always honour!!

When we docked, none of us felt very well and we tottered unsteadily onto shore. It was our luck it should be raining. So now we were dirty, tired, cold AND wet through. Thankfully it took us only a few minutes to retrieve my trunks, and then a young man was walking up to us and introducing himself as Jean-Luc, our guide to the Court of Miracles.

Exhausted from our trip, my hackles were immediately raised.

"Guide? And where is Trouillefou? Did he fear his tunic to become soaked? Was his future wife not cause enough to leave the Court and guide her himself?"

Poor Jean-Luc. My unexpected assault caused him to stammeringly reply, "Clopin sends his deepest apologies Mam'zelle. He had intended to be here himself, unfortunately something unexpected rose, and he was forced to attend to the emergency."

He spoke very prettily for a gypsy boy, and drew an eyebrow from both me and Geraud.

He must've noticed our inquisitiveness, but he said nothing. He simply assisted Geraud to load my trunks onto the small cart he'd brought with him and then to help me into it. He very considerately covered my soaking legs with a blanket, and I smiled at him, my early peevishness forgotten. He looked relieved and then alarmed as Chester forcefully pushed past him into the cart.

I turned to Geraud who stood silently outside.

"Are you not getting in, Geraud?"

He looked surprised, but hastened to answer. "Missy Sahib does not remember? I was only to lead you as far as Paris. It is your father's orders to leave you with your new people."

Instantly my heart sank again. "Geraud, no! You can't leave now!"

He shrugged, although his eyes showed sorrow. "I must, missy. The boat leaves again at dawn, I need to be on it."

My precious pride forgotten I wept hopelessly, clinging to his gnarled old hand. He was the last human link to my old life and I didn't want him to leave. I watched his eyes cloud over, but he gripped my hand tight just once before letting it go.

"Now now... Be a big brave girl. Show these Parisian Gypsies what the sgzany are made of!!! Dazzle them!"

It was the most original parting I had been given yet and I smiled then, feeling a little better.

"That's a girl. I go now. We'll meet again one day."

Then he was gone too. Chester stared balefully up at me, and I back at him, as Jean-Luc climbed up on the cart and bade the horses move.

-----

The trip to the Court of Miracles was not so long nor so tedious as the last time I had been here, but the main entrance through which we entered was just as dark and frightening. There were people below to meet us, who took my trunks and carried them forth, long years of practice guiding their steps. A huge monster of a gypsy stepped forward, and spoke with surprising gentleness.

"Here, madam. Let me carry you on my back so you don't get your little feet soiled in this muck."

I was far too exhausted and depressed to give a reply of wit; I merely nodded and thanked him hoarsely, as he hoisted me up and carried me through the sewage.

The trip could not have been that long, but I believe I must of dozed, for the next thing I was being placed inside a warm tent. I looked dazedly about for Chester and sighed in relief when I saw him settling down in a corner, after first checking to see me awaken.

Then suddenly the strange gypsies were gone and I was left all alone. Exhausted as I was, I feared sleeping - I was in a strange place, with strange people. I did not want to make myself vulnerable. I checked my trunks to make sure all was intact after the boat trip, and once I had satisfied myself all was well, I settled back into the cushioned chair I had been placed in.

I was soaking wet and chilled through and through, but I could see nowhere near something to dry myself with, nor anything to wash in. Cautiously, I peeked outside the tent - but there was nothing out there either. I could see tents placed all around me, but nowhere linen or washtubs.

I saw Jean-Luc exit from a tent away down from where I was, and I thought about asking him for assistance - but after my breakdown in the cart I wanted to regain my injured pride, and foolishly, I withdrew back inside. Again I sat on the chair, and took to counting the circles woven into the elaborate embroidery of the covers I was nestled on. My head drooped with weariness but I kept it up.

"I can't bear this much longer," I thought "I can't stand it!"

I thought myself then weak and pathetic, and was ashamed, and hastened to wipe away the hot tears which sprang from my eyes. I was beginning to feel unwell besides, and hated the feeling of sea grime that seemed to be all over me.

Suddenly there was a burst of life from outside the tent, a shout of voices which rose above the soft murmurs of the Court's regular activity. Some masculine laughter, and then the approach of footsteps.

A voice spoke then, and although I had not heard it in eight years, I knew it instantly.

"Well, Jean-Luc, where is she then?"

A voice resplendent with strength and merriment, and I flushed scarlet to think of myself sitting here, wet, dirty and tired. Please do NOT let him come in and see me like this!

"She's in the tent you had us put up for her, 'boss'," was Jean-Luc's easy reply. "Though go easy, she was practically dropping from fatigue!"

He only laughed in reply, and while I fidgeted in agitation, the tent flap was flung aside and a tall, thin man entered, exuding a masculine confidence from even his very fingertips. It was Clopin. My future husband.

He'd grown even more handsome in the last eight years, his face now matured and very well defined. His hair was still long and the same jet-black, and he now sported a brilliant black goatee on his chin. He'd grown taller as I knew he would, and though painfully thin you could the strength from years of exertion. He stood before me glorious and splendid, beaming his great smile, his teeth whiter than I could believe, his eyes just as dazzling as before.

And there I sat, like a pathetic drowned rat.

He gazed at me for a moment, arms folded across his body, before turning to the outside.

"Hey Jean-Luc! You've made some sort of mistake here! I find no future wife, only a drowned rat!"

He'd said it with humour, no cruelty, but is so very much mirrored what I had been thinking, and I was so completely at my wits end, that I took in an outraged breath and, not being able to think of a retort, burst into tears, the second of that day.

His face expressed his astonishment at my emotion, but he was quick to kneel by my side, his gestures suddenly uncertain, as he made an attempt to soothe back my hair.

"Now now then, ma petite, it was said only in jest, no need to be so emotional!"

I could only weep further. What a first impression to make! Mortified by my tears I knew Clopin now feared he had a spoilt and highly-strung woman on his hands, and I was neither of these!!! But I was too distressed to take a hold of myself just then. I batted his hands away. Not only could I not bear the thought of him touching me, but my hair was filthy and in desperate need of a wash.

He stared at me in confusion for some moments before again turning to the open flap.

"JEAN-LUC!" he bellowed, and I was startled to silence by the ferocity of his tone.

Jean-Luc appeared within an instant, his face also bearing apprehensiveness. "Yes, Clopin?"

"Are you blind as well as stupid?" Clopin snapped "Can't you see this young lady is wet and cold and tired? She's been at sea for weeks, she arrives in the rain, she is brought and dumped by a bumbling fool who then leaves her in an exhausted state in dirty clothes!"

Jean-Luc had paled, poor boy. But his mistake was simply the result of no forethought, he was not truly callous. Or so my vulnerable heart told me then - for I had been so touched by Clopin's immediate understanding of my overly-emotional state, I was willing to forgive even Jean-Luc's failure to bring me clean linen. He hastened now to get a tub for a bath and direct others to fetch hot water for it. Clopin himself went to fetch me linen, I think he did this deliberately so that I might compose myself in private. After Chester came up to me and kissed me tenderly I managed to do this, so by the time he returned I was once again calm and in control of my emotions.

Even though we both were normally the boisterous, gregarious types, when he returned with soft towelling to dry me after my bath, we both skittered around each other. Neither of us spoke, only glanced in each other's general direction. I was mindful of my vow, and despite his kindness I was determined to keep it, so I sat with my back ramrod straight and my chin high in the air, observing him with a look I'm sure he remembered from many years ago. He for his part, was just as casual. He made no effort to touch me, he simply placed the linen where I could reach them, and leaned causally, his arms folded, his face at ease and relaxed.

He chuckled suddenly, causing a slight stir from me.

"You know," he said, "When you broke down a moment ago I thought perhaps a pixie had possessed that little body of yours, so different a reaction was it to one you'd of given eight years ago. But now, watching you here I see you are just the same as always."

"Not so, m'sieu," I said stiffly. "I've changed a great deal. You have just yet to witness it."

"Is that a fact then, Madam?" he said humorously. "I certainly hope so. I've no time to keep you in check otherwise!"

"If you take my meaning to be that I will sit silent and demure day by day doing nothing but take care of your whims, then you are also mistaken!" I retorted.

He chuckled again and would've replied, but at that moment Jean-Luc and some others arrived with my bath and steaming hot water. My heart rose at that sight and they left once they had set it up. I couldn't wait to get in and scrub myself clean, but Clopin stayed on, watching me with some interest.

"If you'll excuse me, m'sieu," I said crankily, "I would like to take my bath now."

He nodded affably. "Yes I know." He stood there for some minutes more, returning my gaze before exclaiming, in mock-sudden realisation, "OH, you mean you'd like me to leave you be?"

My eyes narrowed at his "joke" and I nodded curtly.

"Well Madam, you had only to say so. Just like you had only to say to Jean-Luc you wished for a bath. Then your desire would be fulfilled!"

The implication of what he said - that my continuing discomfort was my own fault - was clear, and I rose angrily to reply, but he bowed swiftly out of my tent and left me in privacy.

The bath was an exquisite luxury, and I soaped myself thoroughly, completely enjoying the experience of being clean. Once done, I rubbed myself dry with the fresh linen, and massaged my long hair until it was only slightly damp. Then I opened my trunk to put on one of my new gowns.

My mother and myself had worked long and hard on them, for we were aware that my saris would not place well in Paris. We'd remembered the style worn by the gypsies from or last visit, and we worked some lovely gowns in that fashion. I hadn't realised it then, but I saw it now - the loving care my mother had put in to every stitch, for every garment was a work of art, and every one unique. They all also had a touch of individuality, so that I would feel like myself, not just one of the crew. There were many red garments in there, being mindful of my love of red, and it did not take me long to select a beautiful full-skirted red dress, its hem lavishly embroidered in small black beads, teaming it with a black lace-up bodice. I pulled on my little golden slippers and decorated my arms with my brass jewellery I so adored. I pulled a comb through my thick hair, and then tied a black scarf through it, so that it still hung loose and lovely. Checking my reflection in the small glass I had brought with me, I was well satisfied, and after giving Chester a vigorous brush and rub down, I was ready to explore. At least, so I thought.

As I strode purposefully toward the tent flap which would lead me out into my new world, I noticed how soft and inviting the downy pillows looked. They were also covered with beautiful fabrics. I knelt down to admire the embroidery, and doing so thought it couldn't hurt to lie down and have a few minutes rest. It had been a long journey after all, and I would feel better after a short nap.

So thinking, I sank gratefully down onto the bed, drawing the soft covers around and over me. It was a heavenly bliss after months of sea, and stringy little canvas hammocks, and my entire body relaxed immediately. Within a minute I was sound asleep.

-----

I slept the rest of that day and the whole night through without stirring once, but when I awoke the next morning, I realised someone had been in whilst I was dead to the world. My trunks had been rearranged, more clean linen placed nearby, and just within my reach were a few red roses. I had never forgotten the taste of the roses, and I gratefully grabbed one and munched on it, enjoying the flavour all over again.

I felt thoroughly refreshed after my long sleep, and I bathed and changed quickly. Then, Chester by my side, I ventured out into my new world.

The Court of Miracles, through well rested eyes, was a pleasing place. It always had been. But I noticed that tents were no so shabby, possessions not so meagre and clothes not so tattered as they had been eight years ago. I doubted many of the gypsies had taken to stealing, so it could only mean their situation had begun to improve. Most of the gypsies had been up since daybreak, and I felt more than a little shamefaced at my laziness. But still - I would have the rest of my life to make up for it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

As I moved easily through the court with an outward confidence I did not altogether feel I noticed the others staring at me with inquisitive eyes. I wondered how many remembered the little brat princess from eight years ago, and if so, did they recognise me now, all grown up. I smiled and nodded at all I passed and found it returned. These would be my family for always, is what I kept telling myself as I moved amongst them. You will grow close with them and soon you will forget all about your mama and papa and your five strong brers. It was easy enough to tell myself, but I knew it would not be so easy in reality - especially considering the circumstances I was there under.

I stopped by a fire where a few matronly women stirred something in a large bubbling pot. It smelled absolutely delicious. I felt a sudden nervousness rise in my chest. Yes, we were all of the same breed, but I was a foreigner, new and unknown. I was here to marry their King, and the only memories they had of me were as a little girl constantly seeking attention. In a rare moment of self-doubt, I panicked quietly. What if they all hated me? What if they rejected me? What would happen then? One of the women looked up from the laughing conversation they were having amongst themselves and saw me standing there. Looking more than a little bewildered, I imagine.

"Hi there," she called cheerfully. "If it isn't our little Queen!"

The others looked up then and their smiles joined hers and I couldn't help but give them one back.

"Come on over here then, little one," the first called, holding out her hand to me. "Let's size you up!"

There was nothing but warmth and friendliness in their faces and voices and I quite happily moved over, giving my hand to the first. They looked me over and oohd and aahd and smiled and clucked and I giggled and had a sudden memory of a similar group of women giving me a bath here years ago. Perhaps they were those self-same women.

"You think she's lovely? Her skin is very pale."

"Very lovely. But she's got fire in those eyes. Clopin'll have his hands full, I shouldn't wonder!"

"Now now, I'm sure she'll be a perfect angel. Won't you, little one?"

It was the first again. I felt drawn to her, mainly in part because she reminded me of my absent mother. She looked nothing like her mind, where my mother was small and fair, this lady was large and dark - but she had the same quality as my mother. That of being loving and tender, but ferocious and bossy.

I smiled down at her. "Certainly I will Madame. Providing he deserves it."

They laughed at that, and pinched me companionably. "Ooh, you'll be good for him, you will dear. He needs a bit of that cheek at the moment. Now listen, I'm Tante Marie to all here abouts and to you too, alright little one?"

"Alright Tante," I said meekly.

"This here is Josephina, Marguerite, and Sophie. You remember us, cherie, we'll watch out for you here till you settle in."

"I'd like that very much, Tante" my heart swelling with gratitude.

They beamed at me, the four of them, and I felt another great rush of emotion swoop over me. Tante Marie saw the mistiness and my eyes and embraced me compassionately.

"Poor little darling, you miss your family and your home."

I nodded my assent.

"Here now, you'll be all right. Clopin may take a bit of breaking in at first, but he'll be good to you. And you'll have us every time you need a little womanly reimbursement!"

They all chuckled at that, and I guessed it was a joke regarding their size for they were each of them large buxom women. Tante stood up, brushing her apron off.

"Come now, cherie. Let Tante Marie walk you back to your tent."

I tucked my arm through hers and we started back the way I had come. "Good now, we're away from all those busybodies," she chuckled good-naturedly. "I can have a word with you in private."

For some reason I felt a little apprehension with those words.

"Is there - anything wrong Tante?" I almost whispered.

"Well - not anything wrong as such. Just a few words of advice about your fella to get you started off right."

"He's not my 'fella'!" I said proudly.

She heard the haughtiness in my voice and saw the tilt of my chin as I said it and responded with a little shove. "Hey now, that's foolish pride, little one. He's your fella whether you like it or not, you have to start getting used to it."

"I've already accepted that, Tante," I sighed, "whether I like it or not. But I don't like him, not at all."

She laughed at that.

"Oh, you will."

"If you think I'm like all the other girls and will just fall in love with him, you're very badly mistaken, I'm afraid," I said quite crossly. She responded to that with a very loud burst of laughter.

"Oh no, little one. I know you won't. That's how I know you'll like him. You two are very similar in many ways and you'll get along wonderfully. It'll just be the case of you both swallowing your stubbornness long enough to get the babies popping out!"

"Humph" was all I could think of to say to that.

"But it will be rough going for you to begin with, which is why I'm warning you against foolish pride. You don't want Clopin fooling around on you, and he will if finds you disagreeable enough."

"I don't care if he does," I said snappishly.

"You will when he starts. Believe me, girl, you will. I've no doubt you opposed this set-up? He was just the same. He tried many times to find a way out of it."

My blood boiled at that and she noticed the colour rise in my cheeks.

"Now now, don't lose your temper. Honesty is the best way of opening this relationship, so you should know where it's at. He tried to get out of it, but when he found he couldn't, he accepted it gracefully. I know he will honour his father's wishes and he will be a good husband to you. Now the problem lies in his status with the women around here. The Court has several ladies men, and Clopey's definitely the sweetest of them all, so he's very popular. He hasn't been a chaste boy the past eight years, and the big reason for that is, apart from an insatiable appetite, is that he's constantly falling in love. Or thinking he is."

I remembered Harlan Trouillefou saying something along these lines eight years ago.

"Now when he truly falls in love, it will be for keeps. That's the kind of man he is. He'll never leave her side, and after seeing the look in your eyes, I've no doubt you're the one, despite how much you think you hate him now. Although - " here she paused, and eyed me critically. "I may be wrong. That's up to you, though dear. But you will have to make him want to stick around long enough to do it. His fillies have always been young and naive but the latest - well, she's a big problem. It's unfortunate it had to happen just before your arrival, but there it is. His latest amour is an older woman, and for once he was the one seduced. But she's causing him much grief now over you."

Marvellous. I'd been there a day and I'd already caused problems.

"She wants him to break it off and marry her, but he won't because he doesn't want to dishonour his father. So she's left him, in her way. She's been a terrible tart since, and very cruel to him, so he's quite unhappy at the moment though he doesn't show it."

I thought with discomfort that this woman reminded me of me hardly a year ago. I sighed. "Tante, is there anything for me to be positive about coming here? My future husband's in love with another woman and from what you've told me, he'll be running around with every lady here!"

Tante groaned. "Child, you haven't been listening. Clopin is always faithful to the lady of the time, he gets around because his heart is searching for the right one and he can't find her. He thinks this older, mature and sexy woman is her, and it isn't. If it was Clopin would've broken your engagement, whether it meant dishonouring his father or not. The fact that he hasn't is just a sign he doesn't really love her. She knows him well enough to realise this too, and it infuriates her. So she's tormenting him. I'm telling you this so you realise that you shouldn't close yourself to him. Be open, be warm and be accepting and he will realise Isabelle is not the woman he wants. Be cold and haughty and no matter how hard he tries to be faithful to you, he will find himself back in her arms and making a fool of you. No-one expects you to fall madly in love straight away, but at least make an effort to be friends."

I saw the sense in what she said and on impulse I stopped and kissed her vigorously on both cheeks. She grinned and tried not to show pleasure.

"There now, you'll be all right, girl. I'll leave you now. Just come to Tante if you have any worries. I know a few sgzany lullabies."

I laughed and embraced her again, and she turned and strode off back towards her own tent.

I was not as yet at mine, although I was sure it was just over the way a little.

I marvelled at how like an encampment the Court of Miracles was. It had its own streets, its own sections like. No sky, no greenery, no people apart from gypsies, and it was just like an underground village.

I saw several of the men looking at me and I smiled at them in an open, though not flirtatious way. Though my talk with Tante Marie had perhaps been not of my favourite subject matter, I still felt heartened that I had found someone to keep me company. I grinned down at Chester who could sense my improved mood and he smiled back.

As I rounded the corner where my tent stood, I saw an unexpected sight and stopped suddenly.

It was Clopin in his performance dress. Though multi-collared and bell-laden it looked well on him, and the sensuality of his face was enhanced by the half-mask he wore. There was a young lady with him and he was leaning in close to her face, whispering something to her that made her giggle. She was younger than he, though older than me, that was clear, so it couldn't be the one of whom Tante spoke. I had to smile at the sight, for it was such a typically Clopin thing to do.

I remembered how he had seen me the day before, wet and dirty, and how he probably though he had a nasty little scrag of a wife. They say you only get one chance to make one first impression. I don't believe that.

I walked towards them, putting on air of confidence,and as I drew closer it caught both their attention and they looked towards me. The girl's eyes widened then narrowed as she realised who I was and Clopin – his chin practically hit the floor. He stared at me for several seconds while I revelled in his admiration. I knew it was so intense because he was comparing me with the image he'd seen yesterday: perhaps with the one from eight years ago. I had a glorious figure, with full round breasts and hips, and a small waist. Gypsy clothes seem designed to enhance feminine beauty. My hair was glowing with life and cascaded down my back like a golden waterfall. In England I would have been an outcast for it. Here, it was still definitely unusual, though not so much an object of rejection.

My face – my face had since matured and filled out, my eyes were wide and my lips soft and sensual. I know for a fact I am not a great beauty, I merely have an interesting quality about me. It remained to be seen whether my odd looks and pale skin would appeal to Clopin, or if he'd be like the other men. But he was agape for only a moment before regaining his composure and gallantly stepping forward to take my arm.

"Good morning to you, Mam'zelle. I trust you slept well?"

"Like a dream," I responded with a wide smile, and I knew him to be surprised at that too, for he'd never, in our brief encounters, gotten such warm treatment from me.

"I came to enquire upon you this morning, I was rather surprised not to find you in your tent."

"Well m'sieu, you could hardly expect me to sit there in ignorance when a whole new world awaited me beyond."

He laughed agreeably. "True, that's true. Perhaps I should not be so surprised after all."

"No perhaps not. I, on the other hand, was quite surprised to not find you awaiting me at the docks yesterday!"

He pulled an exaggerated grimace.

"Aahh, Mam'zelle, a thousand apologies. I truly intended to be there, but as Jean-Luc explained, there was an emergency."

A thought came to me then, and tactlessly, I followed up on it. "An emergency named Isabelle, perhaps?"

He stopped abruptly and glared at me. Several emotions worked on his face – anger, confusion, apprehension. I had the decency to blush under his gaze. Just as abruptly he began walking again, pulling me along with him.

"I can see you've been talking with Tante Marie. She truly can put her nose where it's absolutely not wanted."

"It is not true then?"

He sighed and cast a weary glance at me. "No, I'm ashamed to say, it's true enough. I come to you with a broken heart mam'zelle. I can only hope you're woman enough to handle it."

That got my back up a little and I turned to face him as we reached the flap of my tent.

"M'sieu, I can assure you I can handle anything you throw at me and more besides!!! You'd just better hope you're man enough to handle me!!"

He laughed then, and a true spark of admiration entered his eyes.

"You are a treasure, ma cherie. I can see we're going to have much fun together."

I only cocked an eyebrow.

"Now now, mam'zelle, don't look so imperious! We both know this arrangement was not to our liking – but there's no reason we, two beautiful, intelligent creatures, can't get along. I for one I have no desire to argue with something so pleasurable to be with as yourself. So let me offer you my hand in friendship and loyalty always."

He extended his hand to me, and I was pleased he treated me as an equal. I was pleased he called me beautiful and said I was intelligent, though so far he'd had no evidence to prove it. I was thankful he did not know of the type of person I was in India, and I thought in a way – it's good, to be here in a new place where I can start afresh. I remembered Tante Marie's words and confessed to myself that perhaps getting along with Clopin Trouillefou would be nicer than setting up walls for him to knock down. I needed all the friends I could get, and where best to start than with my future husband?

"I will take that offer with much pleasure, m'sieu," I answered, and he beamed that stunning smile at me.

I reached out to grasp his hand but instead of shaking it, he pulled it up to his lips and kissed it warmly. The hot press of his mouth brought a flush to my cheek and I was too astonished to scold. He looked into my eyes before gently releasing my hand.

"I must leave now, ma cherie. I have to continue my work in the world above, before they grow restless and start crying for me."

I smiled at his easy conceit, but gasped when a miniature version of him popped out of nowhere and began to speak in a shrill voice:

"Is not for you they cry, big oaf! Is for me! Me!"

I laughed when I realised it was a puppet in his likeness.

"Oh is that so then?" Clopin demanded of little Clopin.

"Yes, when I perform you are merely scenery!"

"When you perform?? Oh really?"

"Yes they all cry "oh where is Puppet, that handsome devil?? Get the big ugly one off, we want only Puppet's golden voice, his magic storytelling, his – ow!"

Clopin had hit the little puppet with a small stick. Puppet rubbed his head in pain.

"Hush now! We grow weary of your bragging!!" Clopin scolded.

I could swear a pout passed over Puppet's painted features.

"Brute!" he whispered in a soft voice, and ducked his head when Clopin glared at him.

It was only simple child's entertainment but it had great charm. The Puppet became a living thing in his hands – and his mouth did not even move when Puppet spoke!! I was impressed tho I tried not to show it. Puppet retreated back into his hiding place (though I could not see where he could hide in Clopin's closely fitting garments!), and Clopin made me a bow.

"Until this evening, mam'zelle. And remember – if you need something you have only to ask for it!!"

He bowed to Chester also with a courteous "Monsieur" and that was it for me. Clopin Trouillefou was my friend.

"Until this evening then." I smiled at him and watched as he moved gracefully away, calling greetings and exchanging pleasantries with those he encountered.

Chester looked up at me inquisitively. I think even he had been impressed.

"Alright I admit it!" I grudgingly stated. "Life with Clopin Trouillefou may not be so bad after all. But I am still not going to love him!"

I went inside the tent and ate the rest of my roses.

-----

I did not see Clopin again until the evening. During that time I had been rather stuck for something to do. I was reluctant to unpack my things as I guessed the tent I was in was only a temporary residence until I was married. When would that be? The sea voyage had been long and I had lost all track of time. I did not know even when my sixteenth birthday would be, or if it had already passed.

Chester, who had just flopped onto a pile of cushions, groaned audibly when I leapt to my feet and bid him come.

"Don't be lazy, sir," I scolded. "If my birthday is soon you must buy me a present!!"

He only snorted, unimpressed.

So once again we left the tent in pursuit of knowledge. Most of the gypsies had by this time moved up into the world to work their street art, or to shop. I spied some little gypsy children played in a corner of the Court, and moved over to them, Chester by my side.

They stopped and gaped when they saw me approach, not so much at me, as to the big tiger by my side. I doubted they had ever seen such a marvellous creature before. A few of the little girls backed away, nervous of this strange beast.

"Hello there!" I called. "How are we all today?"

A few of them answered shyly, the others not at all. They gazed up at me with their large beautiful eyes, and then at Chester. You must remember that the tiger is the largest of all cats, bigger even than the ferocious lion. When I say I look down at Chester, I mean by only a few inches. But Chester was good-natured and sweet. He would not harm these children.

"You like my large friend?" I asked them agreeably.

"Will he eat us, madam?" one of the young boys piped up.

"Not at all. He is gentle as a lamb, more gentle in fact. He will not charge your bottom when you turn your back to him!"

I got a few giggles from that, and several of the little ones edged cautiously forward to look at both of us more closely.

"He is the largest cat I ever saw," said a little girl with large green eyes. "What made him so large?"

"Milk," I said. "He drinks always milk and it makes him large and strong. He can wrestle an elephant to the ground. Here, you may pet him if you like."

Chester subjected himself to this with very good grace. He sat on his haunches and patiently allowed the few brave to stroke all his lovely fur.

"What is an elephant, madam?" The first little boy said. I'd forgotten most of the children here wouldn't know of those animals.

"An elephant is like a giant mouse, grey of skin and big as a house! He has a nose that is like a long tube."

The boy eyed me suspiciously. "Is that a REAL animal?" he said. "It doesn't sound like a real animal to me!"

"It's as real as you or me." I told him. "They are very huge, and when they speak they say 'hrrrrruuuuuuuummmpppppp!!!!'"

"Oooooh," they all replied.

It was such a companionable scene, a group of brightly attired but raggedly dressed dirty little gypsy children and a giant of a white tiger sitting amongst them. Then there was me of course, in my brilliant red robes, and my fair skin, squatting on the floor, smiling. I looked above and around me at the Court, and remembered how it had reminded me of India eight years previous. It still did, in its way. The colourful people were everywhere, the tents and the scents of food and spices. If it wasn't that I missed the heat of India, the smells of flowers and the lush countryside. If it wasn't that I missed my family especially - I might have started to feel at home already. I was swept suddenly by another wave of homesickness, and I tried crankily to push it away. I wanted suddenly to be alone. There would be other opportunities to know my children better, to regale them with stories of India and it's ways and customs. I stood up and brushed the dust from my skirt.

"Tell me little ones," I said to the children, "could any of you tell me what date it is today, please?"

They looked confused for a second, and one of them ran off. The others looked amongst each other and then back up at me.

"We're sorry madam," the little girl with green eyes said. "We don't know what the date is."

I felt depressed suddenly." That's alright, little one. I will find out soon I suppose."

The child who had made the sudden exit returned then, breathing heavily. "Please Madame," he said, "my maman says that today is the 24th of January."

I could feel my heart practically stop. The twenty-fourth! It was only two days away from my birthday and then I would be sixteen, soon to be married!

"Thank you, little one," I said, and rubbed his hair. I bid them goodbye, thought they asked me to stay and play with them. Chester pressed close by my side, sensing my reflective mood as I walked back to my tent. Once inside I sank down on the cushions and began working a piece of embroidery I had begun on the ship. I was aware now, more than ever, of the abrupt change that had happened in my life.

-----

It was later that evening when Tante Marie showed up at my tent to take me to dinner.

"Come now, child. Gotta eat and keep your strength up!"

I was very glad to see her, that is certain, and eagerly took her arm. I told of the exchange between Clopin and myself that morning, and she squeezed my arm happily.

"That's the way, girl. You keep that up now, and you'll be happy here."

Chester ran on eagerly, his stomach growling. Once we reached the supper circle, I had a word with the man turning the spit, and he happily provided Chester with a large leg of meat. I saw many of gypsies look at Chester warily, but as he seemed so docile nothing was said.

I went to sit by Tante Marie but she told me I would have to sit with Clopin when he arrived, for he would want to present me to everyone there. I looked around, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and I felt a little lonely. I also couldn't see any of Clopin's family. I was aware that his brothers and sisters might have moved on and out of the Court, but it surprised me somewhat to not see Delilah or Harlan anywhere. I whispered as much to Tante Marie, who looked at me shocked.

"Oh but of course child, you wouldn't know. Delilah been dead these last five years, Harlan these last two. Clopin's been king ever since."

I sat back, quite startled. Poor Clopin! I could only imagine how terrible it would be to lose your family forever, and then it occurred to me that I had probably done just that as well. I almost felt sad again, but this time I determined to shove it away and went to get a plate of food. It occurred to me then I hadn't eaten anything except a few flowers since yesterday, and I took what I was given gratefully.

I felt a hand on my shoulder then and whipped around, startled, to find those mischievous black eyes flashing down at me.

"You have been giving your food, Herlikin?" Clopin asked me. I wasn't sure I liked the liberty he took of calling me by my first name but I didn't protest. I just nodded and allowed him to lead me to my seat.

He took up a huge plate of food for himself, and we all ate, talking companionable amongst ourselves, sharing laughter. All except for me, who sat silent with no-one to talk to. Clopin spoke mainly to those men nearby him, and I felt a little sulky and left out.

When both he and I had finished eating, however, he rose to his feet, and raising his arms addressed the Gypsies in a loud voice.

"My fellow gypsies!!" He called "As you know I have been your King these two years, and have not as yet taken a wife!"

"Not in name, anyway!" someone retorted and there was a shout of laughter.

Clopin took it with good humour, chuckling too. "Yes, if you want to see it that way!" he said, "but all that is about to change! By the end of this week I will be twenty-three - I will also be married!!"

There were many cries of approval over this, though they probably all already knew. I was very interested to hear Clopin's birthday was in the same week as my own.

"Now many of you don't know my beautiful bride-to-be, though I'm sure many of you will remember her brief visit here eight years ago, when her and her family of sgzany dazzled us with their tricks and acts."

There was murmured agreement during which Clopin winked down at me.

"In particular this little one astonished us, not only with her skill, but with her wit and brains. True, she was a perfect little brat - " thanks, Clopin - "but at least she will have good children!" What was this??? The others laughed and I realised it must have been a joke, though I didn't find it funny, personally. "It gives me great pleasure to think I will be making a life partner of her. I present to you now, your Future Queen - Herlikin-Elise!"

So saying he reached down and pulled me to my feet. I was caught off guard, and had to struggle to make sure I didn't lose my balance. I held face though, and tossed my hair back and smiled proudly at all those around me.

"Let's drink to this one then" Clopin shouted, and lifting up his mug, held it high. The others followed suit.

"To our future queen!" he called, and they echoed him before gulping back their liquor.

I noticed then that many of the young women glared at me disagreeably, and with envious eyes. No doubt they welcomed me quite a bit less than the others did, and I felt irritated. Why couldn't they go off and find their own men? Why should I become an automatic enemy over one man? I was careful to mask my frustration, however, and sat back with Clopin, who pulled me unforgivably close to him. I did not want to make a spectacle of myself and resisted as best I could without being conspicuous, but his arm was firm around my waist, and my back pressed hard against his waist as we sat on the cushions placed there for our comfort. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke and it was a pleasing sensation, I'll admit. But I did not feel comfortable with this familiarity from who was, let's face it, practically a stranger. It made me think of what I would be obliged to do with him after our wedding night, and though I had no qualms at all about that act - I had always hoped it would be with one I loved. The thought of it being with Clopin, a man I barely knew, did not sit well with me at all.

-----

The next day Clopin once again came to my tent.

"Good morning, little Princess," he declared, his movements as nearly always flamboyant. He swept off his hat and made me a bow. I was not happy at his intrusion, but what could I do? I realised pretty quickly Clopin went wherever his fancy took him.

"Good morning," I replied grouchily, pulling my wrap up around my shoulders. He gazed at me for several minutes, a little smile playing on his lips, until I grew impatient and snapped:

"Did you come here for a reason, or just to stare at me?"

"My apologies, Herlikin. I was merely admiring the paleness of your skin. It's very unusual amongst us here."

"I know, believe me I know!" I grumbled. "No-one ever lets me forget, I assure you."

He laughed at that. "No fear, Herli. You are no less beautiful because of it."

"Why thank you so much," I said with much sarcasm. He shook his head, smiling.

"Come then, my lady. I take a morning off to move your trunks to my tent."

"I beg your pardon!" I said, feeling scandalised. "We're not yet married m'sieu! I absolutely do not move in with you until then!!"

He threw back his head and roared, while I stood, much insulted at his arrogance.

"I'm not sure what it is that made a sgzany woman so picky about where she sleeps, but I assure you - among the gypsies we have no such quibbles!"

"I assure you I wouldn't were I to be with one I loved."

He stopped laughing and looked at me reflectively then.

"Ah, I see. Oh well. I'm sorry it's not to be that way Herli. And your things must still be moved in with mine before tomorrow."

He bent to lift one of my trunks. I stopped him.

"What do you mean 'by tomorrow'?"

He slapped his forehead with his hand "Of course," he groaned. "How would you know? Tomorrow, my dear," he said, taking my hands, "we get married."

I pulled my hand back sharply.

"Tomorrow?? But - but - it's so soon!"

"The sooner, the better - I can put you in a more comfortable situation for a start, and you can begin more fully settling into your new life."

"But - tomorrow - it's - "

"It's your birthday. I know. We're going to work the two celebrations into one!!"

My mouth dropped open slightly.

"How did you know?" I asked.

He shrugged "I have always known. I believe my father told me once. Anyway, enough talk. Time to move."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

He hoisted up my first trunk, my Chest of Treasures, and carried it out of the tent. I followed him as he wound his way around the tents and through to the one where we'd be making our home. It was larger than the other, though not especially ornate or elaborate. I was surprised to find the interior spotlessly tidy. It was covered with many beautiful trappings, and some essential pieces of furniture, again nothing especially superior to what everyone else had. He placed my trunk down carefully in a corner next to some of his own, and then told me to stay whilst he fetched the other. I gazed around the tent where I was to make my new life beginning tomorrow. Certain things needed a woman's touch, and I was confident with what I and my mother had been collecting over the years I could make the place a truly beautiful home.

There was a large bed in one corner, comfortably dressed. There were a few chairs, and a table where Clopin evidently worked his puppets. Apart from that and his chests the tent was relatively bare, but comfortable. He returned then with my other trunk and placed it down next to the other. He straightened and smiled amiably at me.

"You can unpack now, if you like," he told me. "It'll save you time later, when you're busy with other things."

"Like what?" I questioned, images of him bidding me slave darting non-stop around my head.

"Well, you'll be getting to know the others, and your way around Paris, I imagine," he said, eyeing me quizzically. "You surely don't intend to hole yourself up inside this tent forever?"

"No, of course not," I muttered, and whilst the idea of following one of his suggestions did not exactly appeal to me, I decided it was good sense, and moved over to unpack my trunks. Besides which, keeping all my pretty things inside them had been driving me mad the last few days. I wanted to get them out and arrange them and make this place my home!!

On his part he pulled his tunic off over his head, preparing to change for his work. This simple action which I'd seen performed by so many of the men back in India - indeed where many men wore barely anything except a loincloth at times - aroused in me a slight discomfort. Perhaps because we were alone in the tent, and everything was so new - I didn't like it. I cast a quick glance over his lithe form before returning my attention to the trunks, a blush arising in my cheeks. As he pulled out his multi-collared garb he glanced at me, grinning.

"Of course, we must not forget you'll be very busy cooking and cleaning for me. I don't take such great care of my clothes either, you'll need to mend those. And if you don't become pregnant within a week I'll have to cut back your meal size and - " He broke off laughing suddenly as I turned to him, my eyes flashing, a sharp retort on my lips. I realised then he was only teasing me, and embarrassed, I turned back to my trunks, biting down hard on my mouth in an attempt to regain control of my temper.

"Very funny," I said through gritted teeth "I'm laughing."

He laughed only harder at that and I wondered savagely if there was anything that didn't send him into fits.

From my Chest of Treasures I pulled out some lengths of beautiful linen and embroidered bed sheets. I remembered working these with my mother on a beautiful hot day once, and growing restless under her watchful eye. I rubbed my face affectionately on them, and again felt homesick. I decided I would arrange those when Clopin had left me to my womanly peace, the same with the lovely crockery and ornamental heirlooms. As I neared the bottom of my treasures I found the small carved jewellery box my mother had crammed with her most precious valuables on that fateful night before I left.

I picked it up and traced tenderly the image of a unicorn dancing on the sea shore that was carved into the scented wood. The unicorn had been my mother's token animal and she had passed that on to me. Many of my childhood, and adult, possessions had been carved or painted with the image of one, there was nothing unusual about that, but this one - this one had been my mother's, given to her by my father as a symbol of his love. I remembered my big strong papa and my small soft mama and the way one would throw me into the air, laughing and kissing me, and how the other would scold and brush the hair from my eyes as she gazed at me with love. My image blurred and I realised I was crying. Hastily I wiped the tears from my eyes and cursed myself for being the fool.

"Now now, Herli," I heard Clopin's merry voice from behind. "You've been staring into that chest some time now - perhaps you've found a little duplicate of yourself to marry me and let you go home, eh?"

It was the worst possible thing he could've said then.

"Leave me alone, you brute!" I snapped childishly, before giving into my sobs.

But he was by my side in an instant, his strong skinny arms lifting me and guiding me to the bed where he sat me down.

"Come now," he whispered, gazing anxiously into my face, "you surely don't take my jokes so seriously, cherie?"

"Don't flatter yourself," I gulped. He looked down at the box I was still clutching in my hands, and realised the cause of my emotion.

"There there, now," he soothed, prising it gently from my grip. "You miss your mama and papa, it's all right. Clopin will take care of you now. He will be very good to you, I promise." He pushed the hair from my eyes gently. It was a trick I'd learnt to hide my face when I cried. Let the hair fall in your eyes, no-one will see. I felt embarrassed at having my emotions exposed again like that, but at the same time I was grateful for his attention and compassion. I wondered briefly how much experience he'd had in soothing broken-hearted women, making them believe everything would be all right, but it was only a passing thought.

"I'll take care of you too, and I'll be much better at it!" a small voice piped up. I looked to see Puppet had appeared artfully out of nowhere and was grinning his silly smile at me.

"Pah! You wouldn't know how to soothe a woman!" Clopin said disdainfully.

"I do too!" Puppet shrilled. "Just watch...er...uh...um..." He darted down, and grabbing the edge of Clopin's belled yellow cowl, wiped away my tears with it, much to Clopin's indignation.

You had to giggle at something like that, and I did. I saw Clopin's face relax somewhat and he smiled, relieved, down at me.

"As lovely as it to sit here and make a beautiful lady smile, cherie, I have to go," he said apologetically, "or else I will earn no money and you will force me to sleep outside!"

"I will be anyway, tonight certainly," I said.

He laughed softly. "Well tonight I may tolerate, mademoiselle. Do not think so much on your sorrows. I know you are unhappy, but things will become easier."

I didn't answer that, only sat with my hands in my lap, staring at nothing. He appeared not to notice my coldness, but leaned forward and kissed me warmly on my forehead. His goatee tickled my chin, but it was a nice tickle and a nice kiss. I felt something slither along my neck and jumped in alarm, then saw it was only Puppet, begging for a kiss. I obliged him, kissing his little painted mouth, and he sighed and fell back in faint.

"Perhaps I should stay here and comfort the lady further?" he suggested hopefully to Clopin.

"Absolutely not!" Clopin scolded. "As if I would trust you with a woman!! You're coming out to earn me some money!"

"Dang," the little puppet said dolefully.

I laughed and then he was standing up and Puppet and he were bowing themselves out and leaving me once again on my own.

-----

I sighed to myself, but drawing on strength and pride, pulled myself together and set about arranging my pretty things inside my tent. I pulled Clopin's bedclothes off his bed and prepared to put a set of my own on. I hesitated as I thought of the wedding night and how these beautiful sheets would become stained then. I did not want that - but it would be improper to not use them, what my mother and I had worked so hard on. I placed all my linen with Clopin's, and again I marvelled at how clean and tidy everything was. I knew for a fact no man could keep himself in such immaculate surroundings and I wondered how Clopin had managed it. I would find out soon enough, I imagined, and continued my work. There wasn't much after that. The crockery and jewellery I left in the chest, as they would only be used when needed. The rest were mainly other useful things like utensils, good-luck charms and icons. A few decorative cloths and ornaments and I was done. The tent was 100 improved since before I came and I stood back, proud, surveying my handiwork.

So now with nothing to do I went off to visit my adopted aunt, Tante Marie. She was sitting with her three friends, embroidering today instead of cooking, and gave me a shout of welcome as they saw me approach.

"Here she comes then!! Hello little princess!! Welcome!!"

They laughed and made room for me, drawing me into their group.

"We saw Clopin moving you in today," Sophie informed me. "He certainly wasted no time!!! You'd have thought he could wait one more night to share your bed, after eight years!!!"

"He will be waiting one more night," I said decidedly. They smiled at that, and laughed amongst themselves. Though they all had several children each, only Josephina and Maguerite were married.

"You've never been with a man then before, little one?" Tante Marie said incredulously.

I shook my head no. "Though it's not prudishness, mind," I hastened to add, "simply disinterest. Finding no-one I like well enough."

They nodded understandingly at that.

"Yes women aren't like men in that respect. It's not enough for a man to look good." Josephina stated. "We want - no, we need - so much more."

"We demand it!" Sophie declared and they all laughed again.

Marguerite leaned over to me conspiratorially. "Well from what I hear from my one and her friends, that young man of yours will take you to new levels of experience!!" They clucked over this scandalous talk, but I merely raised an eyebrow. The thought of being with Clopin still didn't sit well in my stomach - indeed it made me very nervous, although I wasn't sure why.

"Your one?" Tante Marie demanded. "She's not been with him, has she?"

"Oh yes, but only very briefly, and many years ago now. She was quite cut up about it then, but they get over these things very quickly at that age."

I didn't like the way the conversation was heading. I really had no interest in discovering how many women Clopin had been with before me.

"Though mind, they're still fond of each other. Just friendly though. He looks out for her, and she'll do anything for him. He has a way of staying on good terms with all of them."

"All except one," Josephina muttered darkly, and Tante Marie glared at her, hush! The conversation lulled after that and we all sat together in silence, they with their embroidery and me with my thoughts.

"What do you think of your young man then, little one?" Josephina asked me after a fashion, casting me a sidewards glance.

I paused. "He is - he is nice enough I suppose," I said haltingly.

Tante Marie laid a hand on my arm. "Clopin and Herli have agreed to be friends," she told them. "For now we must be satisfied with that!!"

The other women looked thoughtful.

"Even just-friends might help him, though," Josephina said.

"Indeed it will, especially if she puts her mind to it!" Tante Marie said firmly. "I can see already the way they look at each other." News to me! "Things will be fine, you'll see."

It was time for me to put in. "Is this all about that Isabelle?" I said. They glanced at one another. "I don't like being left out of things that concern me. Tante, you told me all about her yesterday, there's no need to have these whispered comments and sidelong glances!!"

"I suppose you're right, child," Tante Marie admitted grudgingly.

"Of course I'm right!" I said crossly. "You're all expecting me to make this woman disappear somehow, without giving me any kind of information at all!!"

They exchanged small looks of disapproval.

"Mind your elders," Maguerite said placidly and I sighed, resigned.

Tante spoke up. "Isabelle is not in the court right now, little one. She left the same day you arrived. We're all hoping that while she's gone you'll move in and win Clopin's heart. That girl is bad news. She's never been fully accepted by anyone here, and while he was with her, things weren't the same."

"I don't really want to win his heart," I confessed sulkily.

They all gasped and shook their heads. I had to be careful of falling out of favour with them, and revealing my stubbornness would be the best way to do it.

"Honey, you might not want to, but it's not like you're gonna find love somewhere else. The only time gypsies get married is if they're prepared to commit to one another totally and fully. Now we know it's hard for you, having been placed in this situation of an arranged marriage, something which happens amongst us as often as being invited to a ball at the Palace, but gypsies expect marriage to be sacred. No-one looks kindly on a woman who cuckolds her husband. And he's a good man. He will be good to you," Tante told me.

"I'm getting very sick of hearing that," I muttered.

"Well, you should stop returning to where you began! You told me you'd made up your mind to make things work with him, and I took you to be a woman of your word!! Don't be so close-minded!!"

"I'm sorry Tante," I said sincerely. And I was. I had vowed to be friends with Clopin - but I had an older vow - one to never fall in love with him. How could I make him fall in love with me and not return the affections? "I am a woman of my word, and I will do my best to keep it. I'll be a good and loyal wife."

They all smiled at me again. "There now, you'll be fine, little one," Sophie said, patting my hand. I wasn't so sure myself. The conversation moved onto other things after that, in which I learned that several of the Court's women were only too happy to keep Clopin's tent clean and tidy, his clothes mended and his meals cooked for him. This irritated me and I declared that would change. This pleased them further and they chuckled to themselves.

"I take it none have been around to introduce themselves then?" Tante asked.

I had noticed the surprising absence of women my own age. My "humph" was her answer. They all chuckled again.

"Give them time, they'll come round. You've stolen their favourite treasure. They won't look on you with favour just yet. But they'll be friendly soon enough, if only to stay in Clopin's favour."

That wasn't exactly comforting. "I'd like my friends to be real ones," I said stiffly.

"There there. You can come sit with us old women any time you like," Marguerite said soothingly. "Those girls will run circles around you soon enough if you don't let them know who's boss. Don't be a snob, but don't give in to their bullying either. And if they do torment you - only run to Clopin if it's extreme."

"I would not run to him anyway!" I said proudly. "I can fight my own battles."

"Good girl. Be strong, you'll be fine. And mind - the sooner you bear a child, the sooner they will realise you're here to stay and give up any caprices entirely."

Again our talk headed down that path. I steered it away again.

"I thought meals were always served in the big circle, but I've noticed cooking utensils and the like in the tents," I said.

"Oh no no - meals are usually served in the tents, each family cooking for their own. It was only the gathering last night because you had arrived."

"The last meals I had here was served in the circle, too," I said with a puzzled frown.

"The last time you were here was when your tribe visited, yes?"

I nodded.

"Then that is why. Special occasions, guests, all that."

"So I will be expected to cook for Clopin," I said dolefully.

"Oooh yes," they laughed. "And he's a regular gourmet! I hope you can cook!"

"Very well!" I said defensively. "I suppose I should head back and prepare his dinner for tonight, in that case."

"You're not expected to until you're married, but it would certainly earn points in your favour, little one," Tante Marie said. The others nodded approvingly.

"Very well then," I sighed, getting to my feet. "Besides, my Chester will be getting hungry. He slept in, so he was left behind today. Is there a place in the Court I can acquire meat?"

They told me of Christophe, the man who provided all the gypsies with meat if they weren't able to leave the Court for whatever reason. After acquiring a large mutton leg for Chester and two chickens (I marvelled at his resourcefulness in acquiring so much fresh meat) with a "complimentary for the new Queen" from Christophe I made my way back to Clopin's tent.

-----

Chester (who was very petulant at being left behind) gnawed happily on his chunk of meat. I had started the small fire under the stove out the front of the tent, and had begun to roast the chickens in a garlic and chilli sauce as I prepared the vegetables when I heard a "helllloooooo there!!!"

I looked up in some astonishment to see the owner of this bellowed greeting, and beheld a young woman, about my own age, approaching. The very first thing I noticed about her were her eyes, which like mine, were oddly collared. Then her very long and thick black hair. She was taller than me, and dressed in a very pretty green dress with a laced-up bodice. I was again made aware of my odd looks in this place, for her skin was very dark. Her face was very open and her eyes twinkled with mischief and friendliness.

She walked up to me with a huge beam of a smile crossing her face.

"Are you speaking to me?" I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"No-one else around!!" she said, still smiling.

I returned her smile. "Won't you sit down with me?" I asked, so relieved that a woman my own age had made contact I didn't care if she turned out to be the Court Loony!

She took up my offer, and then turned to me.

"My name's Colombine." she said.

"Hello, Colombine, I'm Herlikin."

"Ahhhh, so you are! I should've realised the new face could only be you!! I wasn't here when you arrived you see, so I'm a little behind in all the gossip!!"

I laughed and then said with a rueful smile "well, Colombine, apart from satisfying any curiosity on what I look like, I'm afraid I can't supply you with any gossip other than that! I've only been here a couple of days myself."

"And I'll bet the other women haven't been exactly friendly?" she said with a knowing grin.

"No, not exactly." I agreed, and we smiled at each other.

"Eh, don't worry about them. They'll all fall in love with other fellows and your children will play together."

"I certainly hope so" was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. I hardly knew this girl, after all, and there was no need for her to know that quite atypical of me, I was beginning to grow lonely.

"I, on the other hand, have never once been enamoured of our King, so I am pleased to be friendly with you!!"

"And I with you," I said gravely. "So you're not like the other girls who swoon at his approach?"

She laughed " No no! I'm not the only one who's been able to resist it either, though we are a rare lot. I personally think it's quite sickening how they all need to fan themselves as he walks past!"

I was rapidly warming to this girl. "So do I!" I said strongly.

She grinned. "Good! He needs his head pulled out of the clouds, that one! We shall do it together, you and I!!"

"Do you like him at all?" I questioned.

"OH yes, I'm very fond of Clopin. He's loads of fun, but gets his way far too easily. Are you looking forward to marrying him?"

"Not really," I told her truthfully. "He seemed very sweet and sincere yesterday, when I had a little tantrum, but today when my perceptions are a little clearer - well - it was all very nice and friendly, but it really seemed as though he just wanted me to be quiet so he could get on with other things." I hadn't thought of that until then, but I remembered the relieved look on his face that morning when I stopped my tears.

She nodded sympathetically. "It doesn't matter. He will always be sweet to you, and we will be friends, you and I."

At first I felt a little suspicious - being the kind of person I was and had been, it wasn't in my nature to offer friendship so readily and easily, and I didn't expect it to be that way with others. Even the agreement between Clopin and I had been just that - an agreement. A wild thought passed through my head that she was a spy from the other women. But that was ridiculous, and I quickly forgot it, especially when I looked at Colombine and saw the openness and friendliness on her face.

"You may not want to be friends with me," I told her.

She frowned. "Why ever not?"

"Well - I'm - I'm a little weird. And I'm not terribly nice all the time."

She grinned again. "I have a secret to tell you." She beckoned me closer. I leant forward and she whispered loudly, "Me too!!!!!"

I could only gaze at her. She sat back laughing.

"It's true I swear it! We'll get along fine."

"I hope so."

"Sure, it'll be fun, you'll see." She leaned back and looked knowingly at me. I grinned back at her as I put the vegetables on to cook. I could see wickedness in her, and it had been a long time since I was wicked. Perhaps we would have fun.

"Hmmm... here's trouble." It was Clopin who spoke, greeting us as he saw Colombine sitting close by me.

"Hello Trouillefou, so lovely to see you too," was her merry response, as they kissed each other on both cheeks. Clopin kissed my forehead in greeting too, and passed a hand gently over my hair, but the gesture seemed patronising, and I ducked away, feeling irritated.

"Trouillefou, I have wonderful news for you!" Colombine said happily, stretching luxuriously.

"I'm sure you do," he responded wryly, taking off his hat and unfolding his long graceful body down next to us.

"Your little wife and I have become friends, and intend to share everything together always!!" with a twinkle in her eye. He groaned.

"Just what I need! You exerting influence over the woman who'll be cooking my food and mending my clothes! I'll be dead with a week I know it!"

"Ah maybe not dead, but probably very hungry, and quite naked as a popinjay!!!"

"Scandalous woman!" Clopin said in mock scold.

"You'll have to learn to take care of yourself. Herlikin and I will be far too busy with more important things."

"What, like putting mud in your mother's shoes, or tripping up soldiers as they pass by?" he said with sarcasm, filling his pipe.

"Exactly!" Colombine and I said at once, I by this time having caught her mood. We had a giggle over that, whilst Clopin rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Call me Herli," I told Colombine as I stirred my vegetables. "All my friends do." It was actually the first time I'd ever told anybody they could.

"Sure thing, Herli. Call me Colombs!!" and we both began to giggle again. Clopin groaned again and in an effort to change the subject sat up and blew smoke all over me. I coughed and waved at him with disdain.

"Take that filthy thing away from my food" I said crossly.

"Ah the food, exactly what I was about to talk about!!" Clopin said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "This is food for me, yes?"

We both looked at him seriously.

"No" said Colombine "You must be joking."

So serious were our faces that the smile fell slowly from his face as he looked at us in half-belief.

"Surely YOU must be joking, mam'zelles?" he said, looking first at her and then me in an appealing way.

I shook my head sombrely.

"No indeed, sir. This is for myself and Colombine. She is guest to our tent tonight after all, and you were nowhere to be found!"

He stared at us again for several minutes more, before making a dismissive gesture. "Haha, noooo, you joke!" he said confidently.

"Haha, noooo, we don't!!" Colombine said, mimicking him.

He tried another tack. "But what will I eat tonight?" he said mournfully. "I am so painfully thin, look!" He held up an arm to show us. "Would you be so heartless?"

"You will have to beg," I informed him. He played along, tugging sorrowfully at his goatee.

"Is there no other way?" He queried. I looked at him thoughtfully. "How much money did you make today?" I asked to a shout of approval from Columbine.

"Gracious!" he moaned. "Already I'm in for a taste of married life. Here," he continued, pulling out a full purse and placing it near my feet. "I made much money, and left them begging for more."

"Then you may have some dinner," I said graciously. "It is just ready now. You must sit outside to eat it though."

"Oh really?" he said huffily, putting his hands on his hips.

"Yes, really!!" I responded as huffily, placing his serving on one of the plates I had brought out ready. He'd brought wine with him and I filled his glass with that. He took the plate gratefully from me, and resuming his seat spoke conspiratorially to Colombine.

"I wait only until after we are married, then she shall feel the buckle end of my belt!"

Colombine snorted at that, but I merely raised an eyebrow.

"We shall see, m'sieu, we shall see."

He made a face of pretended fear as I gave a serving of our food to Colombine, and fixed my own. Our little play thus having been acted to its end, we fell to eating our meal. The chicken was rather good, I was quite pleased it had turned out better than I thought it would. Clopin evidently thought so, for he ate every bit and licked all his fingers, his of course being the largest portion. He asked if there was any more, and, secretly pleased, I gave him the rest of the chicken.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

We finished off the wine, which I was not so used to as the others, and which left me feeling quite dizzy. I stacked up the plates in preparation to wash them, and then Clopin leaned forward and gracefully picked up his purse again.

"I forgot to mention Madame, that any money I earn is solely my own money. I may give you some if the fancy takes me. That's the way it's done here."

Colombine laughed. "Very tricky, Fool!" she said. "You'll have to watch him, Herli."

"Indeed I shall," I said slurrily. "Or I shall be quite run around."

I moved to collect the plates and take them to our washtub, but Colombine scooped them artfully up from me.

"Here I'm your guest so I shall do that," she said quickly, silencing my protests. "I shall invite you to my tent for supper and you can clean my dishes!"

I accepted that.

"In the meantime, Trouillefou, I suggest you put your lady to bed. She's to get up early tomorrow and the wine has evidently gone to her head," with a glance at me.

"Rubbish" I said snappishly, though it certainly had.

Clopin chuckled and I fancied I heard condescension in it, which made me feel very snappy. He went to take my arm, and I shoved it away.

"I can walk by myself, with no man to help me!" I said, feeling rather like my old self. Colombine tactfully made her way to clean the dishes then, and I tottered into the tent, Clopin keeping closely at my heels. I heard him draw in a breath when he saw the way his tent looked now, but I couldn't tell if it was a breath of approval or otherwise. I didn't care right then, I was beginning to feel drowsy. He guided me to the bed and asked would I be alright to change by myself, or would I need help. I sat up then, feeling quite alert.

"You plan to take advantage of me!!" I snapped, aware all the time I was being very unpleasant, but seemingly powerless to stop it.

"Rubbish Madame, it would be too easy. You have nothing to fear tonight, I sleep in a friend's tent."

"A friend named Isabelle?" I asked nastily, and his expression hardened.

"Damn Tante Marie and her big mouth to hell!" I heard him mutter. He rubbed a hand through my hair and closed with a "Good night mam'zelle. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

Then he was gone, and I was left to myself. I went to crawl under the coverlets, but it occurred to me then that perhaps this bed should not know me until I was married. With those thoughts I curled up on one of the big cushions, and fell deeply to sleep.

-----

The next day I awoke groggily with only one thought on my mind: Today is the day. The day I have been built up towards for the past eight years. The day I prayed would never come. And here it is.

I opened my eyes to the image of two enormous smiles in my face. I jumped in shock and rubbed my eyes, wiping away the sleep. When I took my hands away I saw the giant smiles belonged to two faces - Colombine's and Tante Marie's. They were clearly here to help me prepare.

"Rise and shine, girl!" Tante Marie said happily. "We need to get you ready for the big day!!"

I only groaned and hid under the cushions. Colombine pulled me out by my ankles, and Tante fed me coffee and hot rolls.

I sat, sulking over the delicious coffee, feeling very very sorry for myself. Tante bustled around, marvelling over the pretty things I had brought with me.

"What a beautiful trousseau you have, little one!!" she exclaimed, examining my crockery.

"It should be. My mother and I worked on it for eight years," I said crossly, and she looked reprovingly at me.

"Only smiles today, missy!" she said, more sharply than before. "The others won't be impressed to see a sulking queen."

I was in too black a mood to even smile at her; I just went on mulling over my coffee.

Colombine came over to me then, a large smile on her face, one hand behind her back.

"I heard it is also your birthday today, Herli," she said.

"Mmmmmm" I said, pouting, further depressed.

"I have something for you that you can wear today on your wedding day, as a birthday gift from me." My eyes went wide. To think this lovely girl, who I'd only met yesterday, should be thoughtful enough to give me a present!!!! I was touched, and oddly enough, a little embarrassed, for I knew it would not have occurred to me to do the same had our roles been reversed.

"Oh Colombs!" I said. "I couldn't possibly accept it!!"

She frowned a little. "You can and you shall," she said decidedly. I knew her feelings would probably be hurt if I refused it, so I looked into her eyes and thanked her gratefully.

"Now, it's only a little thing, don't look so flattered!" she said, laughing. "It's something that I have always loved, and I can tell from the way you deck your arms you love jewellery, so this will make a good present for you." She took her hand from behind her back, and opened it to reveal an upper arm bracelet in bronze with a triangular garnet pressed into it. My eyes lit up. It wasn't gold and it wasn't ruby, but it was beautiful, and it was jewellery. It was also a gift of friendship from someone who had no reason to offer me it. I hugged her fiercely.

"Thank you, Colombs, it's beautiful!"

"Hey now, don't be so emotional," she said, hugging me back. "It's semi-precious at the best, and second-hand!!"

"It doesn't matter. It's more than that. I only hope you don't hate me when you get to know me better."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," she laughed. I hoped so.

"Alright you two, the day gets older, and we no readier. Let's start preparing you, child. Where's your bridal gown?"

"In my trunk, Tante." I wasn't feeling very fond of Tante that day. She was being very bossy, and making me feel very cross.

"Well, hurry up and get it then, girl!!!!"

Colombine rolled her eyes at me, as I got huffily up to get my gown. In India brides are beautifully decked out in all colours of the rainbow and elaborate ornamentation. We didn't know how they did it here, so although my dress was an elaborate copy of the style worn here, it was multi-collared and lavishly embroidered. The bodice was a brilliant red with black and gold floral patterns, and the skirt was done in shining strips of different shades of blue, green, purple, orange and red. Although my mother had not been able to sew it together until six months previously, when it was pretty much official I had stopped growing, she had been planning, collecting the material, and preparing it for the last four years. Tante and Colombine gasped when I carefully wrapped it from the scarves which had protected it on its journey here.

"It's beautiful!" Colombine breathed.

"I've never seen anything like it," Tante said.

I felt very proud for my mother then. But another concern had entered my mind. "Is it too much?" I asked anxiously. I didn't at all mind having the finest gown, unless - "will they laugh at it?"

"I don't think anyone will have the stupidity to laugh at it! It's just lovely," Colombine said.

"If they do it will only be the women, and only out of jealousy because they may never have one so fine!" Tante said firmly.

That satisfied me, and I was still conceited enough to not mind the other women being jealous, especially since none had been so nice as to even say hello.

Colombine looked down at her green dress. It was very prettily made, but very plain, and she stuck out a mournful lip.

"We will all look quite dull next to you!" she said. I looked at her and could see it wasn't jealousy that made her say this, just the normal feminine wish to look beautiful. "Oh well," she said merrily, "it's your wedding, we mustn't outshine the bride!!" I made a decision then. "Nonsense, Colombs! As you're my friend and will be with me today, you must look beautiful too!! Let's see if I haven't anything to dazzle you up!"

I grabbed her hand and we went over to my trunk. My mother had had sense enough to make me garments in colours besides red, although I had protested it, and it wasn't long before I drew out some beautiful things. Colombine was taller than me, but we were around the same in waist and breast size, and we quickly replaced her bodice in a darker green, and of a better cut and material then her own. I found a gold embroidered green scarf and we fastened it around her waist. I loaned her a pair of my gold painted slippers, and because they were open-toed and heeled, they fitted her easily. She darted quickly off to her tent and came back with her own store of brass jewellery and we had a lot of fun decking her out in it.

I got a slightly sick feeling in my stomach as we did these things. As much as I had changed in the last year, I had still never shared my personal possessions with anyone, and I wondered slightly what was coming over me. I wasn't one-hundred-percent sure I wanted to do it, but looking at Colombine's eager smile, I thought this is a good thing. Friends share with each other. Paris had changed me, it seemed, but not in the way I thought it would.

"Are you finished now??" Tante asked impatiently.

"Yes Tante Marie!!" we said wearily.

"Good. Let's get the actual bride ready now."

Together they helped me into my gown. Tante laced the bodice up very tightly and I gasped, and frowned at her, though she didn't seem to notice. I put on the good and precious jewellery my mother had given me, and slipped a unicorn talisman into a pouch which I hid amongst my skirts. I pulled out the make-up I had brought with me. They didn't wear make-up here, but I decided I would like it for today, anyway. I outlined my eyes in kohl, and my lips in red paint. I rubbed some light red powder on my eyelids and felt very pleased with my reflection in my glass. Then I did Colombine's for her, though not so elaborately.

"I don't know how you can stand to wear this paint," she said, as I rouged her lips lightly.

"It looks well enough for today, dear, it is not so noticeable against your elaborate gown, but do not make a habit of it. You'll be labelled a whore," Tante said knowingly.

My first urge was to say I didn't care what people thought of me, but I thought better of it. Tante was a real ogre today and I would not have been surprised if she had slapped me for a remark like that.

I finished putting on my jewellery, and made ready my head-dress. Tante stopped me. "You won't need that girl, you'll be presented with one when you're married."

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes!!" Colombine said, dancing a little. "It's very lovely. A little bronze crown and the great mystery of the court - is it a real ruby or just a piece of pretty red glass? Nobody knows!!" She giggled and continued her little dance. I got up, and we held hands and danced round and round in a circle, giggling like little girls.

Tante clapped her hands together sharply. "That's enough now!" she snapped. "Stop fooling around!" We did stop obligingly, but when Tante turned around again, Colombine put her hands on her hips and did a little mime of her. I laughed and Tante looked around with a roar in her eyes. After that we sat down quietly, although all the time I was feeling very cross that Tante had taken it upon herself to act as my mother.

Tante instructed me on what I would be expected to do, and as the day grew longer I grew increasingly nervous. Despite my attempts to hide my anxiety, I began to pace restlessly, up and down.

"Don't be nervous!" Colombine laughed as she watched me.

"I'm not nervous!!" I said snappishly. "I merely grow bored with waiting!!"

"And here we all thought you didn't want to marry him!! Looks like his charm has worked despite yourself!!"

"I don't want to!" I said in frustration. I had grown so nervous my temper was short. I thought my snappish tone would surely have some negative effect, but Colombine merely laughed.

"How much longer?" I groaned. Not long at all, it turned out, for immediately after I said this a voice from the tent called out:

"Hey there! Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely!" Tante replied, putting aside her sewing and grasping me firmly by the hand.

"Marvellous," I moaned unenthusiastically, forgetting that just a minute ago I had been champing at the bit for this moment to arrive. Colombine rasped my hand and winked at me.

"Everything will be fine," she whispered soothingly. "You'll see. It will all be fine."

-----

Whoever had called out to us was not still there when we left the tent. In fact as we made away toward the centre of the Court, I saw naught but myself, Colombine and Tante Marie. I realised they must all be there in the big circle, waiting for us to arrive.

"Yikes!" I said to myself, beginning to feel hot and uncomfortable. "From this day forward you will no longer be a free woman!"

"If we were above and people heard you talking to yourself like that, they'd lock you up, my dear," Colombine teased me. I could only roll my eyes and squeeze her hand tighter.

They both left my side then to move forward, leading me in. I squared my shoulders, took a deep breathe and walked sedately into the Circle.

Every Gypsy in France must've been there, and it was a daunting sight. A marvellous mixture of colours and faces and expressions, the majority positive. For several moments no faces were in focus, but then I noticed a few of the older women nearby smiling, and realised that all eyes were on me. It had been so long since I had performed for an audience I had almost forgotten the feeling of everyone looking at you. My fear slowly dissipated as I walked confidently forward, my head held proud and high. I tried to keep a pleasant expression on my face, but I couldn't force a smile.

We headed through the crowd up to the "stage" where all the "announcements" or hangings should the case be, happened. I could Clopin standing there, in a fresh tunic - one in far better shape than usual. I could see they'd decked the Court in flowers, along with the usual ornamentation of colourful fabrics and hangings, and nearby us, the wedding-cum-birthday feast was being prepared nearby. But it had been left for the moment, and all the attention was on the stage as I climbed the steps towards it. It was just Clopin and I up there, and a large pitcher filled with wine. He beamed at me as I approached him, and took my hand when I got close enough.

"You look ravishing," he whispered in my ear. I could only nod in reply; my stomach was turning up in knots. More than ever I was wishing I wasn't there. I didn't even want it to be over with; I just wanted it to not be happening at all. I gulped and could feel tears pricking my eyes.

He turned to the audience. "My friends! Today is a wonderful day in Gypsy history, for it is today that your favourite King - " they laughed at that "-that is me, in case there was any doubt!! Today I take a wife and a new queen!!" There was much cheering to that, and I took another deep breath, and calmed myself.

"Now, we'll get this boring bit over with quickly, so we can start the drinking and merriment!" A roar of approval, from the men mainly, though the women were certainly amused.

Flamboyance was as much a part of Clopin as his skinny legs. Addressing the audience, there'd been much thrusting of arms and expression of face. Turning towards me then, his gestures were just as expansive, and his smile was huge, though I thought a little too huge to be genuine. I couldn't read his eyes, and that aroused in me another quiet little panic. It made me aware he wanted to marry me about as much as I wanted to marry him. It seemed apparent we could be friends - but live together as husband and wife?

He grasped my hands tight and whispered to me, "You know what to say, love?"

I nodded.

His voice rose loud enough for the whole Court to hear.

"I, Clopin Trouillefou, King of the European Gypsies, swear in the blood of my mother and father that I marry Herlikin DuPre in good faith, and that she will hereafter be recognised by myself and all as my one wife."

I paused, collecting my nerves so that my voice should not crack and reveal any emotion to my new tribe.

"I, Herlikin Dupre, Daughter of the King of the Oriental Gypsies, swear in the blood of my mother and father that I marry Clopin Trouillefou in good faith, and that hereafter I will be recognised as his one wife, and that I shall be good and true to him until my dying day."

"And bear my sons!" Clopin said grinning, to laughter from the audience. I swallowed my tears.

Puppet appeared then, and Clopin plucked the large gold earring from his wooden ear.

"Hey, that's mine!" Puppet shrieked indignantly and there was another amused roar from the gypsy court.

"Not anymore!!" Clopin scolded, whacking Puppet away. "My wife must wear this now!"

Up until that point I had worn my two gold hoops in my right ear, as was the custom for unmarried sgzany women. Clopin leaned forward and pierced my left ear with his gold hoop, and I bit my lip at the pain. He plucked the second gold hoop from my ear and replaced the one in his left with it. Puppet got the other hoop. According to custom, Clopin should've worn mine in his left and his own in his right, but I supposed the King could make his own rules. He lifted up the pitcher of wine and took an enormous swig from it. He offered it to me and I drank from it also. Then holding it together, we threw it to the ground. As it shattered, a huge cheer went up from the watching Gypsies. We were now husband and wife.

I felt slightly numb as Clopin waved and bowed, holding my hand so that I bowed with him. I gasped then as he swept me up into his arms and carried me down into the crowd. They danced around us as we made our way over to the feast where he plonked me down on the cushions, and kneeling down besides me, kissed me hard on the lips. I was reminded briefly of Raghu when Clopin's tongue entered my mouth, for he had been the first and only man to kiss me that way before, and I blushed as Clopin's kiss grew harder and fuller, cupping my face in his hands, but the crowd only shouted approval. He released me then, and laughed as he friends clasped his hands and thudded his back. Colombine ran up to me and hugged me hard.

"A married woman!!" she shouted gleefully. Don't remind me, I thought. But there was little getting away from it.

The feast raged long into the night, with a lot of excessive eating and drinking, as the men grew rowdier and more and more cheerful. I myself could barely eat anything, but I drank far more than I was used to, and briefly forgot my woes when Colombine swept me up to dance with the other women, who had drunk far too much themselves, and who were too caught up in the merriment of the moment to bear me a grudge that night.

Then it was Clopin I was obliged to dance with, as the others circled around us, and I even enjoyed it as we spun dizzyingly around the court. They made a path for us we danced down and I realised then we were at our tent, and Clopin had whirled me inside while the others clapped, and then shut our flap, before moving back to the court centre to continue their party.

My brief cheerfulness vanished instantly as I realised what was now to come.

Then Clopin was kissing me again, the drink making them quite aggressive, his long arms wrapping themselves around me. Tears blurred my vision as I tried to respond and found that I couldn't. I knew that I had no rights to push him away, he was my husband now, and this was something that had to be done.

He paused briefly when he realised I wasn't exactly enjoying what was happening, and removed his hat and gloves. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, then kicked off his shoes. I could only watch in a kind of stupefied trepidation. He smiled at me gently and kindly, and I knew in his way, he understood the emotions I was going through.

Tante Marie had left incense to burn while we were out, and the tent smelt sweet. The soft orange glow of the candles made everything shimmer softly and warmly. The bed looked soft and comfortable. Had I been there under other circumstances, I would have found it quite cosy. As it was, I stood stiffly in the centre of it all, my body quite frozen.

Clopin stretched, and pulled off his tunic. Wearing only his hose now, I could see the state he was in very clearly, and it only made the butterflies in my stomach flitter all the more. He went and sat on the bed and smiled at me warmly, holding out his hand.

"Come here, little one," he said kindly.

I tried to obey and found I couldn't.

"I can't," I said hoarsely.

"Of course you can, ma cherie. It's easy, and I'll be very gentle, I promise."

"No I can't," I repeated, tears again swimming in my eyes.

"Who knows? You might even like it." I couldn't answer then, just shook my head.

I guess he understood then that I was more or less glued to the spot, for he stood up and lifted me quite easily, carrying me over to the bed. He placed me down, very gently, and stretching his long body over mine, began to kiss my face and neck again, his hands wandering, and then beginning to fiddle with the strings of my bodice. I could feel him pressing very hard against my thigh, and all of a sudden I thought of the faceless Isabelle, and I was horrified by men - how they didn't need love to sharpen their passion, and even when they loved another, how easy it was for them to be with a different woman.

My hands suddenly grasped his and made an effort to push them away. He stopped kissing me and looked at me, a frown of halted eagerness passing over his features.

"I thought you came to me with a broken heart," I whispered tearfully, "or is it her face you see where mine is?"

He stared at me for a second, pure shock on his face. It was as if I had thrown cold water all over him, for he was no longer aroused. He sat up, running a hand through his hair, and I sat up also, wiping my cheeks. He let out a deep breath, his passion cooling down completely and shook his head.

"Mam'zelle, you're obviously not ready for this."

I didn't respond, but I drew my loosened bodice tighter around me.

"Men and women work differently - " he began.

"I know." I said dully. He looked at me again, and sighed once more, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Alright, sweet," he said, turning to me. "For now - we're just friends. I won't force this on you tonight, if you truly do not want it so much. But I will be sleeping in my own bed, and I won't allow you to sleep elsewhere. And if, during the night, I should put my arm around you, you'll just have to deal with it."

I felt a flood of relief wash over me. "Thank you," I said quietly, my voice still hoarse. I got up quickly and went over to my trunk to get out my nightgown. He watched me, then turned away with a sigh, shaking his head, when I looked shyly at him. I changed quickly and came back to the bed, crawling under the covers. He pulled off his hose, not in the least embarrassed (and he had no reason to be) and got into bed with me. He blew out the candle and we were in darkness then. So began my first night as a married woman.

-----

We didn't consummate the marriage the next night, or the night after, or for many nights after. But we did settle quickly into an established pattern. Like most gypsies, I would rise early and make Clopin and myself a large breakfast. He would be working all day and I was mindful of this, so I always had supper hot and ready for him. As disgusted as I was to admit it, I was already making a good wife. I didn't visit Tante Marie for several days, still annoyed at the way she had behaved on my wedding day, though if this was legitimate irritation, or just me behaving like a spoilt brat, I was reluctant to judge.

I was far too restless to stay put though, and I wondered the court often, gradually getting to know the people I was living with. Colombine often joined me on these trips, and through her friendly talk and questioning we soon came to be very good friends. I gradually started to trust her more, and opened up about myself on many points, such as the kind of life I led back in India, how exactly Clopin and I had come to be engaged, and I even told her I'd loved once.

We visited each other's tents during the day, cooking, sewing, sharing, and I can't even begin to say how good it was to have young female companionship. She was of basically the same disposition as me (that is wicked at heart and full of fun, though my exterior didn't exactly show this at that early time) and she cut me down a peg or two as well, so that I wasn't so proud or cold with her as I was with others, and we spent much of our time together laughing, though mischief making wasn't to come until later. I was still, in a way, settling in.

As for how things were between Clopin and myself - they were moderately well. We didn't have much time alone, gypsies being very social people who often gathered together at night, but because of Colombine's old friendship with him, the three of us talked together a lot, and I started to grow quite fond of him. He was a very merry soul, at times given to deep thought and consideration, but mostly he was active and he liked nothing better than to laugh and share good conversation. He was a born performer, and would grab every opportunity to be the centre of attention, something much akin to myself as I had once been, and as time went by, under the influence of these two, I would gradually grow once again into a much nicer, sociable version of that person.

I have mentioned before of the gradual transitions I had been through - in my childhood I was basically good natured, though spoilt and in constant need of attention and mischief - I had then grown very wild and cruel and unsociable. After Raghu I was much softened and made quite docile though unsociable and cold yet - but in the Court, surrounded by so many people who hadn't known me as a wicked child, who were warm-hearted and full of fun, despite their sometimes harsh conditions, the youth in me was being reawakened, the desire to laugh and fool around came quite rapidly back to me, along with the desire to perform. Eventually it came to that the three of us were quite kindred spirits, we all enjoying ourselves most when we were laughing, drinking and discussing mischief of some sort.

But I move ahead of myself. It took months for that to happen and things happened during that time which are relevant to this tale.

On the third night, Clopin and I both decided that talking to one another in the darkness of our tent was better than us both lying awake - he, frustrated - I, afraid he would make a move on me.

So it started that we would spend the night talking softly in the dark until we were both too tired to stay awake any longer. As with Colombine we immediately had an easy kinship that allowed him to gently draw information out of me, and I entertained him with stories of India, where he had never been, whilst he made me laugh with tales of his wicked childhood and the trouble he got himself into up on the streets of Paris, with regularity. So it was I gradually grew closer to the two people I liked best in the Court. The pact between myself and Clopin worked out well, and I remembered with irony what Tante had said about the two of us being very similar.

Despite myself I began to love this underground cavern, its rhythms, people and ways. It was still very "India" in its general atmosphere, and whilst still homesick, and although their customs sometimes varied greatly from what I had been used to, I soon began to feel quite at home.

I thought often on my family - my parents and my brothers and their wives and children. I wondered what the weather was like in India, if it were day or night there, if people noticed I was no longer there. I would sometimes feel strange walking through the court calling out to those I saw as if I had lived here my whole life.

Eventually I got off my high horse and visited Tante Marie again. Her three friends and herself beamed to see me come, and asked why I had stayed away so long. I asked why had they stayed away? and when the reply came that they had their own lives to take care of, I said "So do I!" - but with no malice and only fun, so I got only a friendly slap for it.

They asked if there was any sign of a baby yet and I frowned and told them it would come, but they would have to wait and see when. They grumbled, for being mothers of grown-up children, they wanted another baby in the court. I was far too embarrassed to say Clopin and I had not known one another as yet, although I had to confess I did find him handsome and attractive enough now. But I was still not in love with him, and my limbs froze at the thought of lying with him.

Admittedly, I now found their company a little lacking. My first few days at Court it had been a joy to speak with others, but they were, after all, much older women than myself with different interests and ideas. Colombine was much more my type of companion, so my visits to Tante Marie's tent were scarce.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The other women were as yet distant - though more friendly than when I had first arrived. I was determined to show them up, and learnt all their names and greeted them with much friendliness and civility, so that they were ever so slightly shame-faced by their nasty treatment, and became more civil still. They were not horrible girls, despite what their coldness would suggest, they simply resented me, an outsider, coming in and marrying one of the best men there. On the whole they were rather sweet and full of life and fun, with a few exceptions, but I never grew very close with many of them, though as years passed and they fell in love with others, old rivalries were forgotten and we would sit in a circle and talk. I met the other girls who were able to resist Clopin's charms, who had great loves of their own, or simply enjoyed their independence, and became quite friendly with several of them. But my closest friend remained Colombine, and she was still the one I liked best out of them all.

Although friendly and full of life, until I arrived she had been something of a loner herself. Direct and to the point is the way of gypsy women, but it seemed Colombine had been rather more direct and to the point than the others. She wasn't disliked as I had been, being too good-natured for that, but the others were wary of her sharp tongue, and she thought many of them far too silly to be with anyway. She was an orphan in the court, who had given herself the title of "Grand Duchess", a quirk I found entertaining. She spoke Romany and Italian (being of mostly Italian heritage) very well, but spoke French barely at all, so as a way of making her keep she performed pantomime in the streets above. That intrigued me, for mask work involved a lot of pantomime, and I wondered how passionate she was about it. I noticed quickly that she was also something of a compulsive thief - she couldn't help herself, if she saw something she wanted she had to pick it up. It made me laugh, because she didn't hold with stealing at all! She always kept her head, too, I noticed, remaining very cool and calm, and although she was far friendlier than I, I soon recognised many similar traits between us. For example - she was always willing to help people, but won't volunteer her service. One had to ask.

There were days of course when Colombine didn't visit - she was above in the streets of Paris, doing her pantomime or shopping as the case may be. I envied her greatly and more than once expressed my restlessness and desire to see the above world. As much as I loved the Court, I was getting very sick of stone walls.

I thought several times about sneaking out - but then, what if I got lost? I considered taking Chester with me, but then - what if they were unused to such beasts and attacked him? But the restlessness was building up in me with each passing day, and Colombine was urging me to go with her, and it was becoming more than I could bear.

I mentioned as such to Clopin one evening two weeks after our marriage, after he had told me of the day's events, and the children who had watched his puppet show with glee. He said nothing then, but the next day when he had finished his breakfast he told me to put on a dress suitable for the chilly Paris weather, and to come along with him.

Thrilled to the very core, I wrapped myself up warmly, and sensibly put shoes on. I checked several times in my glass to make sure I was presentable and he laughed at my vanity.

"Here, you look fine!!" he said. "With that silly pale skin of yours, no-one will mistake you for a gypsy!"

"My skin isn't silly!" I said petulantly. "I can't help it; it's all my mother's fault!!"

"Aw, poor baby!" he said mockingly. "What a wicked mother you had, giving you pale skin that people will trust, as opposed to dark Romany skin people will throw insults at!"

I sulked and told him, "I've never met a man who thought my colour skin is attractive!!! There were many who were curious, but none who considered it pretty!"

He just bellowed laughter. "And I bet that was a hard knock for your vain little head, eh? Well you're in France now, and though the gypsy men mightn't find you so very beautiful, the Parisians will on the whole admire you. Though maybe they won't!" he added, thoughtfully. "Though they'd die as opposed to admit it, a lot of the French men find the exotic gypsy skin very bewitching!"

I grumbled. "Rub it in, why don't you?", but he laughed all the more.

"Mind, my little wife," he said, taking me by the arm and leading me from the tent "I don't mind at all if other men don't find you attractive!! Though I think you'll find they do. It's just that haughty air of yours that makes them all stay away. They're afraid you'll bite their heads off if they get too close!!"

I didn't like this conversation at all, it was painful for my ego, and I stuck my lower lip out and pouted.

"Hey now" he chuckled, guiding me around the tents. "Don't look so sorry for yourself. Admittedly fair women aren't normally my type, but you're intriguing enough to hold my attention."

Well it was something, and I gave him a smile as we reached the main exit of the Court. He continued:

"Also, you're far far too thin for my liking, but so long as I keep feeding you, you should plump up a little. Then I'll feel like I have a real woman under me!!"

He had to spoil it. As he laughed, I grimaced, very unamused. In India slim, petite women were the fashion. Over here, despite much tightening of corsets, a woman wasn't a woman unless she had many curves and bumps.

I turned around to find Chester following me - poor Chester! He hadn't had exactly a wonderful time since coming here, and I spent many long hours each day combing his fur and spoiling him to make up for it. I couldn't let him out on the streets just yet, not until I got to know it better myself.

"Go back to the tent, Chester, go on now!" I said firmly. He looked at me so sadly, but I'm sure he knew I did it for his own good.

He went back, clearly sulking, and Clopin grinned at me. Chester more or less tolerated Clopin, but they certainly weren't great friends. Chester was jealous of Clopin and would get a look of extreme irritation if Clopin so much as stroked my hair. Clopin for his part was always yelling out in frustration to find Chester on his bed, or sneaking away his supper, or just glaring at him as he went about his business.

"Thank Heavens I don't have to force civility with that kingly beast whilst we're on the streets!!! It's hard enough when we're back in our tent!" he said jokingly.

I laughed "Chester will grow to lov - er - Chester will grow to lik - hmm...Chester will grow to - er - accept you, dear!"

He shot me a look of gentle reproach. "Very funny, cherie." He took my hand and guided me along the narrow hewn stone passageway. "I did not intend to keep you locked away in the Court so long, sweet. But I thought it might be better if you settled in first, instead of bombarding your frazzled nerves with the streets of Paris!!" he said with a grin.

"Hmmm... Appreciated, I guess" I said uncertainly.

"You're going to find it very cold after India, you know."

"Yes, I remember," I said, with a shiver at the memory.

We'd reached the end of the passageway. Above was a trap-door, leading into a tavern where the publican was friendly with gypsies. He turned and looked at me with an eager smile.

"Here we are, ma petite!"

Throwing open the trap-door, he let in a variety of sounds and smells. The sweep of a broom, the filling of a tankard, the noisy rumble of men's voices, and the smell of beer and tobacco. He climbed up before me; his lithe body swinging up easily, then he turned and held out his hands. I took them and he hauled me up effortlessly.

We were clearly in a backroom of the tavern, barrels of beer and wine lining the walls. He shut the trapdoor and I saw it had been so carefully and cleverly made that you wouldn't be able to see it against the floor unless you were looking for it.

My heart was beginning to beat hard in excitement, and I squeezed his hand eagerly. He smiled at me and kissed my hand affectionately, before leading me through the backroom, into another plain room, and from there into the main body of the tavern.

I was amazed to see so many there so early in the day, many having sought a moment's warmth from the chilly February streets of Paris. I realised it was probably nothing compared to how it would be tonight. Now, patrons were still calm, sitting around tables playing cards and talking quietly, as the Barmaid and the Publican (also a woman) busily cleaned and poured drinks.

Although the tavern itself was nothing spectacular or unusual, I felt a little shy, and already a little overawed. As in the Court, everyone seemed to know each other, and the room itself was huge. Clopin grasped my hand and took me over to the bar, smiling at the older woman, who was evidently the owner, or at least the boss, as she told the others what to do and handled all the money - she also had that general air of being in charge and important here. She caught sight of the two of us approaching and beamed at Clopin before giving a shout of welcome.

"Hail Clopin, bit early in the day, even for you, don't you think? What's this you've brought with you; she looks far too fine for you my boy!"

Clopin feigned insult and put his hand on his chest.

"Madame Paquette, you wound me!" he said mockingly. "I was always under the impression you held me in the highest regard!"

She gave a snort. "Oh yes, the highest, especially when you can't even walk home by yourself, and start calling me your darling Paquie!!" she said with much irony, before turning to me.

"Here, girl, what are you doing with rubbish like this one? You look as though you've far too much sense!"

Before I could reply Clopin dove in. "Madame Paquette, most honourable of all publicans, surely you've heard that Clopin Trouillefou is no longer a single man? The woman you see before you is none other than my wife, Herlikin Trouillefou!!"

She looked at him, unimpressed, for a moment before saying, "Ho, really, and what happened with the other one, then?"

Clopin's jaw tightened just a little.

"We no longer speak of that other one, Madame," he said stiffly. She gave another quiet snort before finally giving me a smile.

"You watch out for him, he's trouble if ever I saw it!"

I smiled stiffly back. I wasn't sure if I liked this woman or not yet. I observed her a few moments more - she must've been at least forty, though she was as yet unlined. She was plump, but not fat - only a little bigger than what was currently fashionable. Her hands were rough, and her mouth was hard, but her eyes were kind, and very pale blue. Her hair was a dirty blond colour, very long, and wound up into an enormous bun on the top of her head. Her apron was dirty, but I could see the dress she wore beneath it was spotless, and well made.

She was hard to read as well. I couldn't tell if what she said about Clopin was gentle teasing, or genuine disapproval. So my answer consisted of a tight smile and an "I'm sure I can handle him, Madame."

She stared openly, though not unpleasantly, at me for a few minutes before turning back to Clopin.

"What are you having then, King?"

"The biggest mug of beer you have, Madame!"

"For you, Queen?" She was the first one to call me 'Queen', and it was said with irony!! I definitely didn't know how to take this woman. "Nothing, thank you," was my firm reply.

Clopin gave a shout. "Rubbish, nothing! You'll need something to warm your belly for when we go outside, little one. A glass of red wine, Madame Paquette, the best you can get your hands on in this rat hole." She gave him a playful swat for that. "But make it just a little one, mind," he added with a wink at me, "the lovely lady is not altogether good at holding her drink yet!!"

It was not considered a marvellous talent for a woman to be able to drink like a man, but my cheeks still burned when he said it. When the wine came I sipped it slowly and didn't look or talk to him, although he kept up the cheery banter with Madame Paquette. He'd reached his third beer by the time I'd finished my first glass, but was no worse for it. When he saw my glass was empty he motioned for it to be refilled. I protested but he seemed not to hear it. I was beginning to wonder exactly when we'd be leaving and seeing what Paris looked like outside of the tavern. But my growing restlessness went unnoticed as Clopin drank and talked.

One of the little barmaids approached us then, and Clopin stood up, making her a very solemn bow.

"Good day to you, Mademoiselle Cosette!" he said formally, taking her hand and kissing it. She blushed and smiled shyly as I raised an inquisitive eyebrow to Madame Paquette, who merely shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Good day, Your Majesty," she said softly, through lowered eyelids. Clopin laughed at that.

"Your Majesty! I love it! No-one ever calls me that!" His laughter made the girl Cosette forget her shyness, for she raised her head more and smiled more broadly. Clopin resumed his seat, and motioned for Cosette to come closer. He brought me forward and spoke.

"Dear mademoiselle, it's an honour for me to introduce you to my wife, Herlikin!"

The young girl's eyes widened and she gazed at me in shock. All I could do was inwardly groan, for it was obviously another member of his harem. But I nodded and smiled at her and said, "A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle."

She bobbed me a little curtsy. "And you too, Madame." Her voice was like a tinkle of little bells, sweet and pure. Her skin was paler even than mine, and her large blue eyes made her look like a frightened lamb. The little wisps of hair poking out from under her bonnet were extremely fair, and her eyebrows were almost invisible against her skin. Typically, I was comparing myself to her, and thought with pleasure of my own eyebrows which were perfectly shaped and arched finely over my eyes.

It was impossible to guess her age, although she was obviously not a child. Clopin all the while was watching me while I sized the girl up. His eyes were faintly amused, and his eyebrows raised, expression inquisitive. I realised suddenly I had probably a very imperious expression on my face, both by the way he was looking at me, and the hot flush of colour that was beginning to burn the girl's cheeks. I smiled hastily and turned back to my wine. She gave us another curtsy, and with one last longing look at Clopin, turned back to her work. He chuckled to me.

"Next time, try not to frighten her so. You looked like you were about to order her head cut off!!"

"It's just getting slightly wearying to be introduced to every moon-faced child who holds you in their sky, dear", I said sarcastically.

He clutched his chest in shock. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Herli!" he laughed.

"Please - " I began, when Clopin leapt from his chair, clapping his hands together.

"Right! Finished, ma cherie? It's time we were off!"

I glared at him. No, I wasn't finished, which he well knew, but I boldly drained my glass, and stood up, my challenging look meeting his own. Then with a nod to Madame Paquette, and taking my arm we moved towards the door.

As we got closer, I breathed harder, feeling a rush of excitement. My memories of Paris were dim, to say the least, and I had never seen snow before in my life. Clopin moved in front of me to gallantly hold the door open, and a gust of icy wind met me as I stepped out into the city.

I gaped in amazement as I looked around. Paris is a fine city in the summer, but in winter it looks like a world of crystal. Everything blanketed in a fine layer of soft cold snow. Even here, in one of the simple trade streets, it seemed grand and imposing to me - everything black and white, even those who hurried about their business swathed in dark garments as snow speckled white kisses on their shoulders and heads.

Clopin moved to join me by my side, and I could see he was pleased at my amazement.

"Beautiful, no?" He said. I could only nod.

I looked down to my feet, already sinking in the white, and lifted them cautiously, admiring the way the snow fell apart. He moved in front of me, and took my hand to help me down the steps.

"Mind, love, it's slippery," he warned. I stepped carefully down, and then looked around again, finally smiling.

"It's incredible," I breathed. Even the sky seemed to glitter as the snow continued to fall.

He laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose it is," he agreed, taking my arm once more and beginning to guide me toward the end of the street.

I stumbled a little through this strange ground, but I barely noticed. The snow and wind made everything seem so quiet and still. Unreal. There were so few people about in this weather, the streets seemed so lifeless.

Clopin frowned as he looked around him. "The weather's worse than I expected, cherie. We won't stay out long, you'll catch your death.

"I can handle it!" I protested.

"You say that now, cherie, just wait a little longer. I won't be performing today - there'll be no-one to see it. I'll check my cart and make sure it isn't stuck in the snow, but I'm afraid a more detailed tour of Paris will have to wait until the temperature's more agreeable."

I had begun to notice just how very cold it was, and I pulled my cape tighter around me. The wind still teased my face mercilessly though, and I had to admit Clopin was right. I would have to wait.

But I wouldn't have missed even this brief visit for the world. I bent over to scoop the snow up in my hands and shivered at its biting cold, but it was so beautiful!

"Is it good to eat?" I asked him. He looked at me strangely.

"You have the most bizarre eating habits, love," he said, bemused, "but yes, I suppose it is all right to eat. I don't see it could hurt you."

I stuck my tongue out cautiously and tasted a little. It was freezing, but tasted just like water. I offered my hand to Clopin.

"Want some?" I asked him. He gave me another strange look, and shook his head.

I prepared to toss the handful back to the ground, but he grabbed my hand suddenly, so I was forced to face him, and looking directly into my eyes, he licked some of the snow from my hand.

He pulled a face. "It tastes like water!" He said "What a swindle!"

I laughed at him, and he shook his head again.

"Come on, we're practically in the town square now!" He grabbed my hand again and forced me to run with him.

Running in snow is not easy. "Clopin, stop!" I laughed.

"I'm just trying to make sure you stay warm, Herli!! Is that a crime?"

"It will be if I trip and fall face down in the cold!" I said. He laughed, and slowed down. We entered the square, and I'm sure he planned it very carefully. We entered so that the first thing I saw was the enormous Cathedral of Notre Dame - Our Lady.

If I was in awe before, I was dumbstruck now. There were many beautiful and elaborate buildings in India, but I had never been so close to one as I had been to this Cathedral. I moved forward automatically, gaping upwards in complete amazement. The Cathedral was elaborate and beautifully executed, reaching straight up for the heavens. Covered in snow, glimmers of stone peeked out from under the white. An amazingly imposing and powerful building, it none the less had grace and an air of serenity. I kept moving forward, unaware of anything around me, able only to look up the pillars and carvings, the windows winking at me like many eyes.

Clopin whispered in my ear and his breath was warm on my cheek. I savoured it as he said:

"I will tell you stories about the Great Cathedral of Notre Dame one day. It is said, not three years ago, Judge Claude Frollo took a devil and ordered him to ring the bells."

Although I have belief in the supernatural, I'm not of the Christian faith. Yet in the presence of this magnificent building, I felt a little shiver go through me.

"A devil?" I repeated in a whisper. He took advantage of my awe to snake his arm around my waist, his body pressing into me from behind. His voice took on a deeper timbre as he continued.

"A devil. A hideous deformed creature who possessed the body of a small boy. Frollo ordered he ring the Cathedral bells as penance for his sins. When the night is very still and quiet you can hear the screech of his unholy voice ride on the wind with the bells, as they do battle against one another - the earthly voice of God and the mortal form of the devil, clamouring against one another in a supernatural symphony."

His voice was bewitching and I listened rapturously.

"That is what is said. I, however, know the true story!"

"What is it?" I asked eagerly. He broke his hold on me and moved away.

"Another time, cherie. I'll tell you the whole story." His voice resumed its usual tone and he looked at me slyly. I knew he had enthralled me deliberately with the intention to leave me hanging and I shoved him crossly.

"That depends on whether or not you're a good story-teller!"

He laughed. "I'm the best in Paris, cherie, you'll not find that disputed anywhere!"

"I'll bet," I grumbled. He laughed again.

"I remember a little girl who told all she was the best at everything. It was never proven, of course."

Hmmmm...

"Who was she?" I grumbled, thinking I knew.

"Oh you knew her too, you knew her very well. Though you might not recognise her today. She's all grown-up. But you need only speak with her to realise she is the same!" He smiled at me, and took my hand. I wrested it from him.

"I've barely associated with you, sir, I find it hard to believe we both knew this girl."

"Alright, alright, you're not in the mood to play games. Come on, I'll show you my cart."

I let him take my hand this time, and he took me into a small side street where he stored his cart when not in use. It was rather large, and although painted and decorated to look like a puppet cart, I thought it had once been a caravan.

"There was a time when I was a nomad," he told me, as he unlocked the door. "I used this to get around in. But when my - when it was time for me to take over the Court, I had no use for it anymore. So now I perform from here."

I'd noticed the catch in his voice when he'd been about to say "when my father died" and I felt sorry for Clopin. At least my parents were still alive.

The cold had beginning to bite me very hard, and I was feeling grateful we were going indoors until I discovered the interior was about as cold as the outside had been. Clopin lit a few candles on the small table, and I gasped in delight to see all the little puppets and painted sceneries.

"You like it, then?" he asked. I smiled and squeezed his hand in response and he moved to show me the various puppets. I noticed a door in the wall and moved over to investigate.

"Yes - I put a petition in. That's why it's so small here. On the other side is where I perform from. I cut a large window in the other wall. I set up before a show, through this door here, and then when it's time, I just go on the other side and raise the curtain in the window."

"It's very clever," I told him truthfully, and he looked pleased. He'd created all his players very carefully; the attention to detail was beautiful, though I didn't recognise any of the characters. There was one in a judge's clothes, various indiscriminate soldiers and gypsy types, a priest, some shop-keepers and women. I supposed he had based some of these on people within the city. I moved to another table, and found the characters here more recognisable.

There were devils and angels, a mermaid and a sea monster, a wolf and girl with a red cape - in short, characters from fairy tales.

All the while he watched me carefully from a stool, but I pretended not to notice as I gently touched the little figures. I looked up at him finally and smiled.

"They're beautiful," I told him.

He nodded. "Thank you, Madame."

I looked around again before moving towards him. "Is this all you do?" I asked.

"No no. I am Master of Ceremonies at all festivals! I am the leader and champion in the pursuit of fun and entertainment!!"

"I'm sure!" I grinned. With a swift movement he pulled me onto his lap. "It's true!!! Without me, those festivals would be dull and lifeless!!!"

"Dull AND lifeless? My Goodness, the citizens of Paris must thank their lucky stars for you!"

He raised his hand modestly. "It's true. But I don't like to brag!"

I laughed and whacked him in the chest. He pretended to be confused.

"I don't understand why the lovely lady laughs!" he said, wrinkling his brow. "Is it possible I am so brilliant I entertain her even when sitting down?"

I giggled, and, taking his face in both hands, I kissed his nose. He responded with a kiss on the lips and with the thought that a little kiss couldn't hurt, I sat placidly on his knee still. He saw that and kissed me again, his hands now reaching beneath my cape to hold me around me waist. I felt something stir beneath me and when I realised what it was I knew what his intentions were. I pushed his hands away and leapt off his knee, apprehension and anger thudding in my blood.

"Absolutely not on the street!" I shouted wildly at him before running out of the puppet cart, and through the snow, back the way we came. I was half way across the square when he caught up with me. By that time I'd slowed to a walk, but I didn't look at him.

"We weren't on the street, Herlikin," he said stiffly.

"We practically were!" I threw at him.

He sighed and grimaced. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" he asked grimly. I glanced at him then, and though he stared straight ahead I saw his jaw was clenched tight, and so were his fists. He was genuinely angry, and I felt a little flutter go through me.

"It was also stupid of you to run off like that. How did you expect to find your way back, especially in this weather?"

I pointed to the ground.

"Following our foot-prints, of course!" I snapped.

"The prints are being covered with snow right now, smarty!" he snapped back.

We walked the rest of the way back in silence. Madame Paquette raised an eyebrow as we both stomped through the tavern, and in a moment of lost control I poked my tongue out fiercely at her. She looked surprised before turning away again, with a disinterested shrug.

By the time we reached our tent, he'd calmed down somewhat and so had I. We still weren't in the humour to talk with one another, though, and he made a feeble excuse about needing to speak to Jean-Luc for a while, before storming away.

I flounced into the tent and plonked myself down on the cushions burying my face in Chester's fur, who raised his head to give me a warm and comforting kiss.

"Men are all brutes!" I told him. "Except for you."

I stroked his head gently and wondered what the time was. I knew that Colombine had stayed in the Court today, and I thought I would go and visit with her.

"Come on Chester, let's go my love," I said, pulling myself to my feet and guiding him out with me.

It was late afternoon I decided, as I observed what activity was happening within the Court. I nodded and smiled to a few I passed including Jean-Luc, I was interested to note, with no sight of Clopin anywhere nearby.

Jean-Luc's cultured accent intrigued me. Having observed him in better light than my first day, I realised he wasn't Romany. I wondered how he'd come to be here and why the others accepted him, but he didn't intrigue me enough that I ever remembered to ask. And at that moment I was far more interested in the fact that Clopin had lied. But I didn't say anything, only waved and smiled as I passed by.

"You see Chester?" I said to the great tiger. "Lying brutes!"

People had become accustomed to Chester's presence within the Court, and he did not warrant as many stares as he had previously. But few had courage to pet him or approach him as yet. I knew the circumstances unsettled him, both being constantly undergound, and being constantly sidled around. Those in India had healthy respect for him, but they did not fear him. That people were so palpably wary of him disturbed him, for he was not sure why. As a result his temper was flighty, and he treated others with the same wariness they treated him. For this reason I was glad no-one made too great an effort to come close to him. A tiger on his defences is an unpredictable animal and I didn't need Romanies with big tiger holes in them on my conscience. Nor did I need the inevitable execution of my oldest friend as a result. I was regretful that he was forced to live this way, and many times I wondered if I should've left him in India, where he'd been happy and comfortable.

Colombine was sitting outside her tent, embroidering one of her pantomime costumes and she saw me coming. She greeted me with a big smile until she saw the dark frown on my face.

"Uh oh. I have a feeling that a certain skinny goateed king has been - well, breathing in your general area."

"Don't talk to me about skinny goateed kings," I exclaimed, throwing myself down beside her. "A pox on them all! They can all go to Hell! Furthermore, they can all go to Hell and die!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

I was serious, but she began to giggle anyway. I tried to frown at her, but she laughed all the more. I sighed in exasperation and rolled onto my back.

"Hey now, don't be lying around like that!" she said severely. "You'll positively scandalise old Tante Marie should she walk past!"

I gave her a grudging smile.

"And don't be using language like that either!" she continued. "Imagine, a pure and sweet young woman like yourself knowing such words as "hell" and "pox"!!"

I finally gave a little laugh.

"Well, 'pure and sweet' is not far off," I said grouchily. "Though I'm not sure they're altogether accurate. Perhaps frigid and prudish are more on the mark."

She looked at me in bewildered amazement for a moment, before laying her needlework aside and grasping my hands.

"This I have to hear!" she said "Come in, the Court has ears everywhere."

"And eyes and teeth and fur too!" I said. It made me laugh but she just shook her head.

"You're a very strange person, Herli," she said as she pushed me down on the cushions. I took Chester's head in my lap and scratched his ear. "But that's why I love you."

With a wink, she closed the tent flap. Colombine's tent was small and she liked it kept dark, but she had a great deal of possessions, due to her inability to resist what took her fancy. There was always a smell of sandalwood, not from incense, but from the many little carved figures she kept scattered around. She liked colour, but the hues of her furnishings were barely visible in the dim light. I knew if she had more candles around we'd look like we were inside a rainbow of sorts. A mound of her black-and-white costumes covered her bed. I often wondered where she slept at night.

"Now, tell me what's troubling you," she said, sitting before me and taking my hands in her own. She often did that when she was trying to get me to open up to her. "Why would you, Miss Passion Incarnate, call yourself prudish and frigid? Has that brute Clopin been bullying you?"

I paused for a moment. Should I confide in Colombine this shameful secret? Would she laugh? Would she tell anyone? In the two odd weeks since meeting her I'd grown to trust her more than a good many people I'd known in my life. I'd looked into her eyes often and held her hand many times, and my perception of people following these actions was rarely wrong. (And before you bring Clopin into it, at that point I was unsure, for he mostly wore gloves and I hardly ever looked into his eyes). I looked at her a moment longer and decided to take the chance.

"First off, my "passion" manifests itself mainly in my temper."

She grinned "Noted. But there's a fire of sensuality in you somewhere, I've seen it!!"

I raised my eyebrows. "Maybe. Or maybe once. I thought so too. I don't know anymore. Coming here has played havoc with me; I'm not altogether sure who I am anymore!"

"Well, it just means you're changing. You're young yet, you can't expect to be everything you will be. I have to say, I've noted a few changes in you, and they're for the better. You were a cold distant little fish when you first got here. The ice is melting now."

"Gee, thanks," I said wryly. She laughed.

"Here now, don't be cranky! This is what I mean - you're always on defence. But you're starting to relax. Note - I said starting. Now, what's Clopin been saying to you? Can't he bend you every way he wants to? And I don't mean to his will!"

"He's been saying nothing he hasn't a right to say," I said and then I told her how we had not yet been together as man and woman. Her eyes widened till I thought they would fall out as I told her of the wedding night, and the nights after, and also of the events in the Puppet Cart today.

"You're joking with me!" she breathed when finished. I shook my head, and bit my lip.

"Good God, Herli, no wonder he's been walking around as tense as a coiled spring!"

"You're not helping," I told her through gritted teeth.

"To be honest, I wasn't even sure if you were a virgin or not!" she told me. "I'm not, not many of the girls here are. But to keep on even after being married to him - Lord almighty!! Why are you so afraid??"

"I don't know!" I told her helplessly, and felt tears prick behind my eyes. I forced them back down again. Silly to cry over this. She squeezed my hands tight.

"Here now, don't be too upset. At least he hasn't forced himself all over you, and I tell you Herli, most men would've in his situation."

"I know," I gulped.

"You see, it must mean he at least respects you a great deal to put up with it," she told me gently. "You should be grateful for that, but don't take it for granted. He won't put up with it forever."

"I know" I said. And I did know. His patience would run out, and even though I knew it would come, I just couldn't bring myself to do it yet.

"And I might add, forcing himself on you wouldn't be the worst thing. He might seek satisfaction elsewhere..." she told me warningly.

"Somehow I think that would be better than forcing himself on me," I told her. "At least in my view."

"You say that now," she said, and I remembered Tante Marie saying something similar a while back.

"You Parisian Gypsies have a funny way of thinking," I told her, finally relaxing a little and leaning back on the cushions. She smiled and shook her head at me.

"Not so funny as some," she retorted.

"Humph. Oh - and then there's the matter of him lying to me today. He told me he was going to speak with Jean-Luc, but I saw Jean-Luc and the Honourable King was nowhere to be seen."

"After you got back?"

"Yes."

"Forget it. He's probably gone off on his own to work his temper out. Go back and cook dinner up for him. He'll come back, his usual sweet self and you'll be teasing each other like usual."

"No. If I go back and do all that he'll think I'm ready for it."

"Herli, Herli, Herli. You have to go back at some stage. Better to be back before he is. You'll look like a good girl then."

"I don't want to be a good girl!!" I said in exasperation. "It's extremely boring!!"

She laughed. We sat in silence for a few minutes more, both of us lost in our own thoughts. My mind wandered over the last few weeks and the progress I'd seemed to be making with my husband. Today it appeared I'd taken us back to square one. I felt sulky again.

"He wasn't even there to meet me when I arrived," I said petulantly.

She glanced up. "He wasn't? Ah of course. That was the day he helped Isabelle out of Paris - oh!"

She didn't realise what she'd said until she'd said it, but I pounced on it straight away.

"So that's what happened, was it?" I asked crossly. "Helping his lost love!"

"That's right, Herli, helping her leave!!" she stressed to me. "She told him to go to Hell and she couldn't stand the sight of him anymore, and she demanded he help her out of Paris!"

"Lovely!" I snapped. "His future wife arrives cold and wet and sick and he's off helping some spoilt brat to escape into the country!"

She didn't say anything to that, just looked at me. I glared at her.

"I am not a spoilt brat! Not as much as she is anyway!"

"You don't even know her."

"I don't need to." I'd risen to my feet and was pacing angrily." I bet she knew that was the day I arrived as well!"

"I don't think it was an accident, no," she said softly.

"Tell me everything!" I demanded. She shook her head.

"I wasn't here then, remember? I only know what the others have told me. Herli, it doesn't matter, she's long gone now and Clopin will get over it. Besides which, I thought you didn't care!"

"I don't!" I stormed angrily. "I just don't like - it's just - well - "

"You like to be number one!" she told me with a grin. "Just like him. Herli, please, forget it. I know he's trying to. Go back to your tent, calm down and both of you be friends. You won't be able to keep your hands off each other soon enough, you'll see."

She turned away then, to look over her costumes. I knew it was my cue to go, and I pulled a terrible face at her back.

"And don't pull faces at me!" she called out as I left. I grumbled all the way back to the tent.

-----

Colombine was right. Clopin returned in a much better mood and smiled at me amiably as he came in. After a long and fierce debate with myself I had finally fixed dinner, and I saw he was very pleased. When I saw that, I decided it had been better to do so. It made everything much more pleasant. When I'd finished cleaning the dishes I asked him if we were going to the Court Centre tonight.

"No," he said, filling his pipe. "Not tonight. Tonight I relax here. You can go if you like."

I looked at him in surprise.

"What?" he said. "it's not unusual for one partner to go without the other. It's not frowned upon."

"I wouldn't feel comfortable. I don't know anyone." I said. He snorted. "Just go sit with Colombine. You'll be fine."

"Do you want me to go?" I asked. He looked up, this time he was surprised.

"Am I trying to get rid of you, you mean? Don't be silly. I just want you to understand you're not chained to the tent."

"I move about a lot during the day!" I began defensively.

He interrupted me. "I know, Herlikin. I wasn't implying you didn't. Stop jumping to conclusions."

There was silence for a while after that, which got increasingly difficult to bear. He must've thought so too, for he looked at me and gave a short laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"Just us, love. Sitting here pulling faces at each other. Let's have a drink."

He hopped up, grabbed the wine and a couple of glasses and came to sit down next to me. He poured us each a glass and then raised his.

"No more fighting" he said. I looked at him for a minute and then smiled and clinked my cup against his.

"Alright then," I agreed. We drank and smiled at each other again.

-----

So Clopin and I agreed - no more fighting!! But there were plenty of - let's call them "heated discussions". But we had our fun also. For several days it remained too cold in Clopin's opinion for me to go out, and indeed, many of the Court stayed under. Neither Clopin nor Colombine performed for several days, and it wasn't long before the three of us felt extremely claustrophobic.

"I don't know why you're so restless, Herli," Colombine grumbled two days later, as we three sat up on the stage, looking out over the Court. "You're here every day from beginning to end."

"Sure, rub it in" I replied. "Anyway, I'm restless because all these people are here in my Court and I don't have as much room to move around in as usual."

She turned to me with a grin.

"Oh no! They're so evil, aren't they, imagine the nerve! Staying in their homes during intolerable weather, and inconveniencing you!"

I sniffed. "Yes, you think I like the Court to be so full my skirts should brush against someone wherever I turn? It's unforgivable!"

Clopin laughed.

"And yet this weather seems to have had a good effect on your temper! I rather fancied you'd rip out poor Colombine's lungs after that little dig!" I poked my tongue out at him. He peered closely at my mouth.

"You know, Madame, there's a little pink bug who lives your mouth, and lately he's been appearing more and more frequently. I fancy he gets in the way of Madame's witty retorts."

Without meaning to I poked my tongue out again. Clopin pounced on me, and covering my face with his huge hands tried to wrest my mouth apart.

"Never fear Herli!" he said gallantly. "I shall pluck him from your mouth! He will torment you no longer!"

I grasped at his hands helplessly and tugged on Colombine's skirts to get her to assist - but she only laughed. Clopin and I wrestled for a few moments longer and he managed to open my mouth a little way, but I bit him as soon as a finger entered it.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed pulling his hands back. "You little savage!!"

I sat back panting, and laughed at him.

"Yes. Yes I am," I said agreeably. Colombine stood up, dusting off her skirts. "Come on you two zanies!" she said. "let's go to Paquette's Tavern - it's warm there and we won't be so bored."

"Sure - we'll move from one crowded space to a smaller crowded space. Brilliant, Col," Clopin said sarcastically, picking himself off the floor, and hauling me to my feet. She only slapped him and started to lead the way.

We went the way Clopin and I had done before - that is, through the floorboards. Clopin was right - the Tavern was very crowded and noisy, but I especially was glad of the change. I peeked at the new faces from under my cloak and watched Clopin greet his friends enthusiastically, a lot of young, drunken boys whose names I promptly forgot.

Colombine was quite comfortable here, and waved cheerfully to some of the other gypsies over in a corner. Several of Clopin's friends recognised Colombine from her performances, and within a few moments she had fought her way to the bar which she perched cheerfully on and let the boys buy her drinks and woo her in French, thinking she would be an easy victory, not knowing she understood little of what they said. She spoke to them in Romany, which they didn't understand, mimicking their affectionate tone and I laughed to hear what she said.

"You're so stupid," she crooned, caressing one boy's cheek. "I would like to spit on your head. But then I think, you are too stupid even for that. I will pity you and let you buy me drinks, you poor sad fool..."

But they believed this wild beauty to be in earnest, so they continued to ply her with drinks, each attempting to outdo the other with stories and jokes. She gestured for me to join her on the bar, and I jumped up and sat beside her. They knew better than to try their tricks with me, Clopin being so close by, so after a few compliments they left me alone.

"It's a laugh, isn't it?" Colombine said to me in Romany. "I have no idea what they're saying and they have no idea what I'm saying."

"You needn't worry about what they're saying," I replied. "They're praising your beauty and your charm and grace and telling you all about how many Englishmen they've killed, and how many dragons they've fought, and how many mugs of beer they can drink in an hour."

She laughed. "Men are fools," she told me. "They'll be supplying my drinks until closing time and I won't be going home with any of them. Poor, deluded fools."

I accepted a drink, and took a large sip. I wrinkled my nose. It was beer. Still, Colombine was drinking away, and Clopin, leaning on the bar besides me, was happily quenching his thirst too, so I shrugged and took another drink.

"You know," Colombine said, leaning in close to me, "Clopin doesn't understand much Italian..." She winked and nudged me in the ribs. I understood what she was getting at and leaned forward to drape my arms around my husband, who turned to me in surprise.

-----

"Big-nosed one," I said with affection in Italian, "you are knock-kneed and gangly and your goatee makes your chin look too long."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" he asked me in Italian, and my mouth fell open in horror.

Colombine, meanwhile, was laughing heartily besides me, holding her sides. I whacked her hard.

"You brute!" I screamed. "How could you?"

She tried to answer through the tears of laughter pouring down her cheeks. "I didn't know, I swear, Herli," she cried. "He didn't know it before!!"

"No, I decided I should pick it up!" Clopin said dryly, turning to face her. "I had a suspicion that the expression in your face masked what you were truly saying, and I hate being made a fool of, you know."

She could only laugh, nearly falling off the bar in her merriment. I gave her a shove, feeling quite vicious. Clopin shook his head at me and stared at her, seemingly unamused.

"It's alright, Herli, you don't have to apologise, I know she set you up," he told me, dismissing her and focusing on me.

"I wasn't about to apologise!" I exclaimed. "It was only a joke!!"

He gave a little laugh. "Does it really make my chin look too long?" he said in mock dismay, stroking his goatee, but I thought I could see something else in his eyes. I realised he might have been genuinely hurt by what I said, so I put my hands on both his shoulders and looked straight at him.

"No it doesn't. None of what I said is true; it was just a joke, Clopie, really."

He pulled a face. "Don't call me 'Clopie'. Here, I'll get you another drink," and gestured to Madame Paquette who muttered something under her breath. She and her girls were being run off their feet with the number of customers there today, but within a few minutes Clopin and I had another tankard of beer each. The second didn't taste so bad as the first, and I got it down quite quickly. Clopin laughed at me.

"Another one?" he asked.

"Why not?" I said, feeling quite merry. "Everyone else is drinking drinking drinking away. I feel left out."

He chuckled and was about to say something when Colombine stuck her head in between us.

"Aww, please don't be cranky at me!!" she cried." It was all in good fun!" She toasted us with her glass and returned her attention to the young men gathered around her. It seemed several of them could speak Italian quite well, and pretence was dropped as they all chatted and tried to speak over one another. Clopin chuckled as he watched her.

"She's had too much to drink, again" he told me, leaning his arm on my lap and pulling his hat off his head.

"I better make sure I don't do the same!" I giggled over the top of my mug. He smiled at me.

"I think you already have," he whispered confidentially.

"No!!" I protested. "I can handle as much as you!"

His next look was incredulous. "Now I would like to see that!" he scoffed.

"I could do it" I said confidently.

Two of the young men whose linguistic skills were limited to French came over to join us.

"So Trouillefou, you've left the carefree days of bachelorhood behind then, eh?" one asked jovially. I stuck my nose up at him.

"Indeed I have, Jehan, to join the even more carefree days of marriage!"

"Bah!" the one called Jehan spat, a dirty scrap with long blonde hair. "There's nothing carefree about marriage. It's all nagging, and handing out money, and giving everything to only one lady, only to have her grow old and fat and ugly!"

Needless to say, I wasn't taking to Jehan.

"On the contrary," Clopin said, smiling at him. "You get all your meals cooked, your clothes attended to, and this ravishing creature to share your bed every night!" He gave me a wink, and put his arm around my waist.

"Aye, she's pretty enough," the other said, looking me over. "A little undernourished, but she'll plump up."

"I thought you didn't like wives to get fat," I snapped at him and Clopin laughed.

"That's my little firefly!" he said warmly in Romany.

The other shrugged over my remarks. "When men and women are fat they all look alike," he told me. "Same as when they're too thin. A thin woman looks like a young boy!"

I flushed deep scarlet, although he was wrong to say this. My curves were there for any to see, but he'd clearly resented my retort and repaid me in kind. For that reason I held my temper.

"I can assure you that Herli has everything a woman needs," Clopin told his companions. Jehan gave him a knowing nod.

"She's very pale for a Romany, Trouillefou. I didn't think she'd be the type you'd take for a wife."

Clopin stood back a little to look at me. "She's very fair-skinned, yes. More so than when she arrived here. It's because she's been confined underground so long. Don't worry," he said to me "when spring arrives you can go out and play in the sun again."

"In the meantime she looks like a fish's belly!" Jehan exclaimed and the other laughed so hard he snorted drink out his nose. I'd had enough by this point and tried to jump down from the bar. Clopin tried to hold me back.

"They've drunk too much," he said in my ear. "They don't' know what they're saying."

"It doesn't matter!!" I hissed back and scratched his hands with my nails till he let me go. I jumped down and stormed away to a corner and sat down in a recently vacated seat. I turned back and saw that Clopin was speaking savagely to his two companions, and flattered myself he was defending me. It brought me a little satisfaction, but I still did not feel any inclination to return.

It didn't matter. While I sulked over my drink, he came up to join me. "Those two silly boys send their apologies" he said, grinning.

"Humph" was my only response and he knelt down before me. "Come on, cherie, you hardly think two drunken young men are going to come up to a Romany girl and apologise? They're not close friends of mine, and whilst they cheerfully drink with us and take advantage of our women, they're not going to suffer themselves to say sorry."

I only pouted and he shook his head.

"Now now, little one. They won't do it again. I gave them a fair warning, and all gypsy men are scoundrels, don't you know? I'm the King of Thunes. They're too afraid of my wicked temper and my little dagger to insult my lovely wife again." He grinned at me and pinched my cheeks and won a little smile.

"Come on," he said, taking hold of my hands. "Let's go. I want to show you something."

"What about Colombine?" I said as he led me to the back room.

"She'll be alright. If she isn't back by the evening, we'll come and look for her. I promise."

-----

We went down into the Court again and I felt sorely disappointed. Clopin's eagerness and easy, graceful movements had led me to think we might be going somewhere special, but of course, such energy was typical of him.

"I hate to disappoint you, darling," I said sarcastically, "but I walk through here every day."

"It's not this, smarty!" he said, giving me a shove. "It's something else. And it is special."

We smiled and said hello to Christophe, he who provided the whole court with meat, and his wife Miriam. We stealthily bypassed Tante Marie's tent, neither of us wanting to get coerced into conversation with her, and then we waved to "La Chantefleurie" and her daughter Esmeralda, who was just five years old. We'd reached the Court Centre, and the large wooden stage. Clopin looked around with exaggerated sureptiousness to make sure we weren't watched and I laughed and told him to stop. He smiled at me, and motioned to me to move to the back of the stage.

"Alright, so I make a joke, but it's true, little one. I haven't shown this to anyone before. Others probably know about it, but I only ever find myself there."

We slipped behind one of the large drapes covering the stone wall at the back of the stage, and climbed up into a little space in the rock. It was dark until Clopin struck some flint he evidently kept there and lit a small candle. I looked at him with interest.

"So why am I special enough to see this secret place, Your Majesty?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, little Queen. I just felt like it. Look," - he showed me childish chalk drawings on the walls - "I've hidden up here ever since I was a child. Whenever I got annoyed or bored I would come up here and tell myself stories. I made my first puppet here and planned my first real tale to tell. I also watched how all of my tricks played out. Look!"

The little space was close to a corner of the drapes which hung in front of it, and he pushed it aside a little way. I gasped when I realised I could see the entire court from this place. The Court Centre was simply a title for it, for it was actually beyond all the tents, with only stone behind it. The main entrance (from the graveyard) was off to the side of the stage. Then in front of the stage was the large open space where the gypsies gathered of an evening, or for special occasions. The Tents, which were personal tents and ones where people gathered for baths and trade, were arranged in "streets" fanning out to the back of the Court. The hundreds of fires and candles gave the whole place a very warm glow, and of course it was entirely sheltered from the outside world. Gypsies love colour and beautiful fabric, so what I beheld was a dazzling sight.

"I've never seen it from this angle before," I told him, and he smiled, stretching out his long, lean body beside me.

"Once," he said, "Bethan, the one who provides us with most of our fabrics and who does a lot of the embroidery and dying, you've met her?" I nodded. "Well once, I put some purple dye in with her white linen. I came up here to watch how she reacted! I swear to you, some of the stones in the roof were loosened by her screaming." I giggled. "Then another time I told my younger sister Aloise to tell her little friend Henriette that your good Tante Marie's bosom confidante Josephina was fooling around with the honourable Mistress Marguerite's husband (Josephina at that time being still unmarried). Anyway little Henriette went and told her little friend Agnes, who told her mother Guillemette who told Sophie who told Marguerite! My Goodness!!! The ears that were boxed and the hair that was pulled!!! I thought I'd covered my tracks so well, but no! It was all traced back to me, and my excellent mother gave me the whipping of my life!"

I laughed outright then. "I didn't know you had a younger sister."

"Oh no. She probably wasn't here when you were. She's nomad, travels around, comes back when she feels like it. Same with those younger brothers of mine. You'll meet them, though I couldn't tell you when."

He continued telling me the stunts he'd pulled as a young boy, keeping me thoroughly entertained. At one point I wondered how long we'd been up here, but Clopin's storytelling distracted me and I listened, paying little heed to anything else. He came to the end of one and fell silent. I followed his lead by stretching out beside him.

"Now, lovely Madame!" he said, turning to me with a smile. "Tell me tales of your devilment! And don't shake your head for I know there was some!!"

"No no!" I protested. "I have nothing to tell. Truly, my tales are not so much fun as yours; you don't want to hear them!!"

"I disagree, cherie, I most certainly do! Now, I have bared my soul to you, you must do the same!"

"Really, Clopin," I said, growing uncomfortable, "what I did was not so fun as you!"

"All right," he relented, opening his palms in resignation. "But you must tell me one day!" he shot back, waggling a finger at me.

"Maybe," I said, and we smiled together. "So," I said, turning to look at his little chalk pictures, "you've been coming here all your life?"

"Mm-hmm - just about. Since I was about eight years old. It is my place of retreat and rest. As a boy I loved learning my acrobatics, but it wasn't all I wanted to do. So I came up here and created my stories."

"Stories you are now famous all over Paris for!" I joked, and he nodded seriously.

"You will see, little one. You will see. It is also-" - here he hesitated before continuing - "it is also the place I come when I am sad or need to think."

I burst out laughing. "You? Sad? I believe a smile has been chiselled onto your face. As for thinking - your body is far too much in action to allow your brain much time to think!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

He smiled reproachfully. "On the contrary, Herli, have you never heard the expression "the tears of a clown"? It's true, I've had a good life and I've much reason to be joyful, it's in my disposition. But I've had occasion to be unhappy. And even this body gets weary sometimes."

I nodded and waited. He continued.

"For example - after both my parents died -" he stopped and sighed. I hadn't seen him so hesitant before, nor had he ever spoken so quietly. I listened intently. "After my parents died," he went on, "I came here often. I'm the King. I need always to be seen as in control. I maintain that control with fun and laughter - and here is where I can be quiet. Where I can give my laughing lungs a rest, so to speak." He looked at me intensely. "I thought you could use it for a similar purpose."

I looked away. He put a hand beneath my chin and turned my face to him again. "Do you miss them very much?" he asked me softly. I nodded, finding my emotions sneaking up on me again. I gulped hard and tried to force them back down.

"Please tell me how you feel, Herli," he said gently. "I want to know. I want to understand you better."

I bit back my tears and fought yet another minor battle within myself. Why confide in Clopin? What purpose would it serve? Why does he ask me anyway? I hadn't even told Colombine how much I missed my parents; I saw no reason to tell a man, even if he was my husband and my friend. But it seemed the power of the Court was stronger than me for within a few seconds I was confiding in him. I told him about how sometimes I thought I would go mad, knowing I could never see them again. I told him Chester was miserable, and it hurt me deeply. I told him I regretted the kind of life I had led in India, for most people there would be glad I was gone. He nodded and listened quietly, stroking my hair, which was his equivalent of Colombine's holding hands trick.

"I know it doesn't quite match your pain," I finished huskily. "At least both my parents are still alive somewhere." Nonetheless I cried a little.

"Nonsense, ma petite," he shushed me, pulling me closer to him. "It's the same thing. Chances are, you won't see them until the next life. I know how you feel." He held me for a few moments - but I held him also. I could feel he was feeling sadness at that moment, though he hid it well. He sat up and looked at me, smiling.

"And you were in love there, weren't you?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "I know you were, love. What other reason is going to explain your constant fear of intimacy?"

I shrugged. "I was, once. No longer."

"Well, it's clearly had some kind of long lasting effect. I'll have to use my wicked charms to cure you!" He started making funny symbols with his hands around my face. "Mmmm...hhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...whuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh!" he intoned seriously.

"Stop it!" I laughed, batting his hands away. We sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes more, peeking out over the Court. With so many staying in, it was difficult to tell what time of day it was, but Clopin was obviously accustomed to its rhythms and ways, for he told me it was time to go back.

We passed Colombine's tent to make sure she'd got back safely - and saw her snoring quietly, sprawled out on a pile of cushions.

Clopin chuckled. "She'll have quite a headache in the morning!"

Meanwhile the two of us had sobered up. That night we slept comfortably in each other's arms, and I was glad for the sound of his heartbeat against my cheek.

-----

In the morning I awoke early with discomfort in my belly, and leapt out of bed. I lifted my nightdress to look, and sure enough there was blood on my thighs. I sighed and checked to make sure the bed had not been stained. Clopin woke up and saw it too, and ashamed, I let my nightdress drop.

"Don't blush, Herli, I've seen it all before," he yawned, rubbing his eyes. "And from what I understand it's the worst of being a woman."

I nodded my assent and sighed. My last time had been on the ship coming over and I thought with misery of the many uncomfortable hours I had spent doubled over, with nothing to soothe my pain.

Clopin jumped out of bed, wrapped a blanket around me and scooped me up. "Come on, we'll get you all nice and clean!" And he carried me out of the tent.

The other early risers smiled at the sight as Clopin took me over to the tent where the baths were. I was still groggy from sleep and rubbed the grit from my eyes as he put water on to boil.

"Tante Marie will have something for any discomfort you feel, cherie," he told me. "I'd stay and help you, but I have to check what the weather's like. I'm rapidly running out of coin."

I knew that probably wasn't true, we having had no occasion to spend any, but Clopin was sick and tired of not being able to enthral his audiences and I knew he was chomping at the bit to tell stories again.

He bowed out, and I filled the tub with hot water. I let my nightdress drop, and climbed in, savouring the heat, as I washed my body vigorously. Tante entered then, carrying clean linen and a small vial, a look of disappointment on her face. I guessed Clopin had sent her and smiled at the thought. "Hey there, child, your husband tells me you have the curse?"

I nodded. She sighed. "I guess that means no baby yet."

It was my turn to sigh. "The babies will come, Tante. It's only been a couple of weeks. You know as well as I the baby will come when the powers that be decide it is the right time."

She nodded at that. "Aye, that's true, I suppose. Still, it's a bit of a disappointment."

"I don't mind so much," I said. "It gives me and Clopin time to become better acquainted, before all of my time is taken with looking after a child."

She helped me wash her hair and gave me the little vial. "Drink a little of what's in that, honey. It will help with the pain. Don't drink it all, keep some for later on."

I took a little sip and it was very sweet-tasting. I leant back in the bath and relaxed.

"Come on now, no time for fooling around!" she said, and I groaned and reluctantly pulled myself to my feet. I dried myself with linen and pulled a thick piece of it between my legs and tied it around my waist. Like a loincloth, I thought with a grin, and did a little monkey dance.

"Stop it!" Tante scolded, though she smiled a little. "We don't need anyone to walk in and see you with a bit of cloth around your waist and nothing else, bouncing up and down!"

"I don't know! They might like it!" I laughed, but I obediently tied other strips of cloth around me, foolishly having forgotten to bring a dress to get changed into.

I ran back lightly to my tent and got dressed in a loose and comfortable dress. The linen between my legs was soft, and I mercifully had been fortunate enough to have a very light flow, lasting only a couple of days. The little potion I had taken was having its effect, massaging away the pain and my mood improved with every minute.

Clopin burst through the doorway then, full of life, and gleefully went over to his trunk and began throwing things around.

"The sun is out and the snow is not falling!" he told me joyfully. "Paris is active again, and I'm going out to thrill them."

I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and plucked his performance dress from the hook on which it hung. I threw it over to him and he looked up in astonishment.

"Ah, there it is!" he exclaimed, leaving his scattered possessions on the floor as he stripped quickly and got into it.

"Could I come too?" I asked hopefully but he shook his head.

"Not now, cherie," he said. "You have to stay indoors until your time is over."

"Grrrr!" I grouched. "By the time it is it will probably be freezing once more, and I'll again be thwarted!!"

He laughed good-naturedly. "Don't be so sulky. Winter is almost over. Spring will be here soon, I could smell it in the air!"

"I wanted to see what snow looked like in the sun!" I said, petulant still. He shrugged.

"I'm sorry, love. But you will have other opportunities; it's not the end of the world." But I stayed grouchy, pouting.

"Aw, now don't be like that!" Puppet's little voice implored me as he appeared on Clopin's hand." If you're very very good I may have a surprise for you!" he continued in a sing-song voice.

"A new husband?" I joked. Puppet laughed but Clopin looked unimpressed.

"Very funny, cherie," he said in a monotone. "If you don't behave I'll have to separate you two."

"Just try it!" Puppet shrilled. "We'll organise a mass revolution!! P.A.B.B.F - Puppets Against Bossy Bearded Fools!!"

"Oh yes, and the only flaw being Herli is not a puppet!" Clopin told him.

"Oh! Er - uh," Puppet began, but Clopin dropped his hat over him. "No, wait - "

I laughed. "Poor, repressed Puppet!" I said, sadly shaking my head.

Clopin sniffed. "Repressed indeed! Right! I must go! I must go now!!"

He fitted his mask over his face, both Puppet and the hat having disappeared (and I couldn't for the life of me pinpoint the moment it had happened), and blew me a kiss before pulling his hat out of nowhere and putting it back on. Then with a wink he was gone.

-----

I spent the first part of the morning giving Chester a massage. I'd learned that it could help animals feeling particularly stressed or uncomfortable, and it did help him this day. He looked much more settled when I finished. I wanted then to work on some embroidery, but I felt sick and weary from my blood loss. I took another sip from Tante Marie's vial and lay down to sleep it off.

I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep when Clopin returned, but I guessed it was lunchtime.

"Feeling any better?" he asked me with a grin. I wrinkled my nose at him and sat up. He had a little box in his hand which he gave me.

"Here, Puppet insisted I give you this."

I took the little box with some surprise. It was very light.

"What, an empty box?" I asked wryly, and shook it.

"Don't do that, you'll ruin what's inside!" Clopin cried.

I opened the box and laughed at what I saw. He'd filled it with snow for me.

"I thought you'd like that" he said, smiling, as he picked at the leftover breakfast I'd felt too ill to eat.

I did like it, and ran my fingers through it. It was lovely and cold still and filled me with a sudden rush of happiness.

"Give Puppet a lovely kiss for me to thank him!" I told Clopin. He pulled a face.

"Certainly not. I'll get a splintered mouth. Besides which - I brought it back for you, don't I deserve a kiss?"

I sniffed, and then threw some snow at him.

"Yikes!" he cried when it hit the front of his tunic. "Here, don't throw that at me!"

I laughed and threw more, and he leapt up, trying to avoid the assault. He lunged for me but I rolled over, grasping my belly.

"Oh the pain and discomfort!!" I cried. I was only faking, but it convinced Clopin. I knew how uncomfortable men were about a woman's pain at this time every month, and sure enough he could only stand there looking stupid and apprehensive. I kept up the act a little more, groaning and clutching my stomach, and he tried helplessly to comfort me, patting me lightly on the shoulders, looking exceedingly unsure of himself. I began to giggle at him and he gasped in indignation when he realised my trick.

"Oh, you insult me Madame!" he said. "I'm very hurt! Taking advantage of my kindness like that!!" But I couldn't stop laughing, and finally he just shook his head.

"Right, I have to go back up. I only came down to see how you were, but I find that you're very well enough!" he grumbled. "Oh, and just in case you were wondering - they were all delighted to see me, and cheered at my approach so there!" and he poked his tongue out, batting his eyes, in a mimic of me.

"Here, give this to Puppet for me" I said, and kissed him full on the mouth.

-----

Sure enough within a couple of days the curse had left me, and the weather had returned to being too bad for me to go out. Predictable, I thought, and was very annoyed. I was now longing quite whole-heartedly for spring, when I could come and go as I pleased.

My thoughts had even wandered down the path of performing again and I wondered what I could do. I discussed it with Colombine as we tried on dresses in my tent one day.

"What were you accustomed to doing back in India?" she asked me, weaving a blue scarf through her hair.

"Working with animals and masks," I told her. "Similar to Pantomime."

"Hmmm...I don't think the animal thing would work here. I don't know that Chester would be well accepted up there."

I teamed a red dress and a green bodice, and although it looked well I didn't like it much. "No, I thought that myself. I don't have any masks, but I could make them easily. I can dance too, and I was very good at acrobatics."

She looked thoughtful, chewing her lip and pulling on a dark blue skirt. "There's a gypsy dancer on every street corner. Were you any good?"

"I thought so."

She grinned "I bet. How long has it been since you danced?"

I pulled a face. "A year. Same with my acrobats, but I could pick them up again easily enough."

She put on a red bodice. "I'm sure you could. Don't dance, Parisians are bored with dancers. And there's no place for acrobats except at festivals. Maybe, if you're very keen to perform, you should try the mask thing. Of course, you'll have to check with Clopin."

I frowned. "Why?" I swapped the green bodice for a black one and she shook her head at me.

"Don't you ever get bored with the same colours?"

"No! Why would I have to check with Clopin?"

"Because he might not want you doing anything."

"Oooh!! Well, it'll be his own tough luck. I can perform if I damn well want to!"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he wouldn't stop you if you really wanted to. He's not like that, but some of the men don't like their women to work - you know gypsies only get married if they find their soul mate, and the men like to provide for their wives."

I turned to her. "You know ours was an arranged marriage!! Besides, I want my own money. I want to be able to buy pretty things if I feel like it. Apart from anything else, I want to perform again! I want an audience!"

She laughed. "All right, all right. Explain it to Clopin like that, he's bound to understand about wanting an audience!! But performing doesn't always provide you with much money. If it's pretty things you want, you can always get them the way I do," and she grinned wickedly at me.

"Steal?" I asked, my interest piqued.

"Mmmm-hmm. I could show you. Teach you some tricks."

"I don't know, would Clopin approve?" I laughed. She joined in.

"Never mind that, he used to do it himself!! But he's above that now. What is it he says - cutthroat yes, cutpurse no!"

I chuckled. "Maybe I should ask Clopin to teach me some tricks in that case."

"He probably would, if you asked him. I think he only ever tried to disencourage stealing in the Court once or twice, and only because he was trying to look after us. But there aren't always honest ways of earning things, not for us. So as long as we don't steal from each other, we're alright, and he strongly recommends that if we have to steal, it be practical things, like bread or clothes. They don't need much excuse to attack us up there - the fewer reasons we give them to justify it, the better. But - well - sometimes I can't help it!" and she grinned.

I tried on my "crown" and flounced around for Colombine to admire me.

"Stunning!" she said, laughing.

"Thanks, I thought so too!" I told her. "So Clopin is a good King, yes?"

"Yes. He is. Even I can admit that. He takes care of us well. There's not much we need from a King, except brains, a lot of laughs, and a strong stomach. And Clopin never flinches from wringing necks when he has to. He's full of fun and energy, and can always work out a way to help a gypsy in need. He's also relaxed enough to otherwise not give a damn what we do, and they all love that. They can go to him if they're in trouble, but he won't stop them from getting into it."

"Sounds like a good King to me!" I said happily, sitting down to watch her fiddle with her clothes.

"We'll have to get into lots of trouble, just for the fun of Clopin getting us out," she told me. "He's wonderful about that. He treats it all as if it were a great play. He organises spies, and revolts, he'll give some stirring speech and whip up the people's outrage. He loves dressing up and acting out various roles. He hardly ever stops performing when there's something going on, even if it's serious. Even if we've got gypsies waiting to be hung, he'll have to act out his little drama for a couple of days. I think it's partly punishment too - let them sweat for being so foolish as to get caught and put in the dungeons. And if he has to hang someone, he'll make a performance out of that too - people are too busy laughing and they forget the severity of what he's doing."

"Clever boy!" I said dryly.

"It is clever, Herli," she said, swapping the blue scarf in her hair for a red one. "He always knows exactly what he's doing in such situations. Even at the festivals every action is premeditated. He's careful and cunning. I love watching him in action."

"Oh, I find it easy to resist his charms," I said, mimicking her. "I've never been infatuated with our King, it makes me sick to see the women swoon!!"

She threw a voluminous dress over me, covering my head.

"Shut up!!" she cried."It's true!"

"I know, I know," I said, struggling to fight my way out of the dress. "But you talk like he's some great hero or genius. Like your greatest inspiration."

She stooped and helped me find my way out. "Well, we've known each other a while and we are very close friends, Herli," she told me.

I felt a pang of jealousy then, but I didn't know of whom.

"How long have you known him?"

She sat up and frowned, thinking. "About four years" she said. "He helped me escape from a hideous tyrannical beast of a husband!! We spent quite a time travelling around together, so we know each other pretty well."

It didn't seem fair that my two best friends should be so close together, closer than I was to either of them, and it put me right out. I didn't say anything, though, just sat there and pouted.

"What's wrong?" she asked me curiously. I shook my head.

"Nothing. I'm just lost in thought."

"Alright then." She paused a minute and then said, "I should go, Herli. I have to meet Frederick in the tavern tonight. I need to make myself beautiful!!"

"Oooh, who's Frederick?" I asked, very interested. I'd not heard her mention him before.

"A man who runs a store with the most divine black-and-white garments I have ever seen. I must know him better!!"

I laughed. "And you pick on me for my love of red!" I shook my head. "Very well. I'll see you later on then. Have fun and be careful!"

I could hear her laughing as she walked back to her tent. I folded and put away my clothes and jewellery, mulling over her long past with Clopin.

"You're silly to let it bother you," I told myself, and tried to concentrate instead on what I could do when I began performing again. I imagined joining in with the Festivals, and becoming reacquainted with all my old tricks. It was a cheering thought, but nonetheless I very soon found myself returning to Clopin and Colombine, sharing adventures and travelling France and Italy together. Then I came along, landing right in-between the two of them. I thought on this until I realised I'd stopped what I was doing and had been consumed by it, grimacing, and halfway between putting a dress in my trunk. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"Ridiculous" I muttered, and moved away to fix supper.

-----

The next day the cold was so intense that no-one at all left the Court. They went about their daily activity and the place was more alive than I'd ever seen it at that time of day. Clopin was restless at being unable to go out and make a spectacle of himself, so he joined up with his fellow gentlemen over in the Court Centre and kept them amused with his tales and jokes - suitably modified for an older audience.

I, in the meantime, completed a task I'd been using to keep me entertained when I'd nothing better to do. I modified one of the least pretty of my red dresses into something resembling the type of clothes I wore back in India. That is, a dress divided into two parts, leaving a wide expanse of stomach bare, and a great deal of arm. I'd taken it one step further, and showed off a lot of leg as well. The whole thing was edged in gold-embroidered black silk and I thought it very lovely. I tried it on, and admired as much as I could see of myself in my small glass.

"What do you think, my handsome tiger man?" I asked Chester, who was still gnawing on his breakfast. He looked up lazily, sniffed approval and fell to his food again.

"You may be the best of men, Chester, but I'm afraid you don't know how to admire a human lady," I said with a toss of my hair. "I need one of those brutes on legs outside to have a look."

I felt very daring in my new outfit, and after cautiously looking around outside, I stepped out. I hesitated, as I wasn't sure where to go. Who did I want to see me exactly? I took a few faltering steps to the left, and then gasped as a steely grip grabbed my arm and pulled me into a tent. I almost screamed then realised I was back in my own tent, and my attacker was none other than my husband, evidently returned from his merry-making.

"What in my name are you doing??" he hissed. "Leaving the tent half-dressed!! What are you, mad?"

"I'm not half-dressed!" I retorted. "I wore things very similar back in India!"

"You're not in India now, Madame!" he said crossly. "Not only do we not have the hot tropical weather, you've managed to create an outfit that makes you look like a whore to every class of person, including your own!"

I was too overcome with indignation to answer. He made sure the tent flap was secure and then strode back, tossing his hat to the ground and shaking his head. I found my voice.

"Begging your pardon, oh wonderful King, but I'm absolutely not a whore - "

"Don't I know that better than any!" he said grimly.

" - AND this is considered quite normal in India - "

"We're not in India!" He exclaimed. "You can't go around dressed like that here! If you wore that on the streets you'd be taken for a whore, and there are only two consequences to that - you'd either be arrested or raped."

"I should be able to wear it anywhere I liked." I said stubbornly. He sighed and collapsed into a chair.

"Well - you're not. And you better accept it. Not even the other gypsies would find it acceptable for you to dress like that."

I sulked. He rubbed his face with one of his large hands. "In fact, I forbid you to wear it," he said.

"Oh no! You can't forbid me to wear this!!" I said, outraged.

"Oh yes I can. And I do. You can't! Not outside this tent anyway. Absolutely not. If I ever see you so much as put a toe outside of this tent with that piece of fabric on, I'll burn it!"

"You wouldn't dare!" I raged.

"Oh wouldn't I? I'd take great pleasure in it too- " he'd taken his hands away from his face and was gazing at me then. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.

"Well???" I demanded. He shook his head quickly and continued.

"I'd burn it with much regret, but I would do it," he finished, and resumed looking at me, up and down. Although my original intention had been male approval I blushed a little under the intensity of his look. It stopped about half way when he noticed my pierced navel.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"It's a piece of gold," I told him as though addressing a small child. He looked at me witheringly.

"I know that little one, I meant what's it doing there?"

"Many women in India have them," I said, looking down at it. I had always liked the way it looked on my flat belly. They were a common sight back home, but I realised that no-one here had probably ever seen them. Clopin stood up and moved closer, looking at it hard.

"It's pierced right through the flesh?" he asked.

"Yes, just like in our ears. Didn't you know I had it?"

"How would I?" he said dryly. He reached out a finger to touch it. I let him, although I tensed. It was just a plain small circle of gold, but it held his attention very closely.

"You don't like it?" I asked, although I could see he did.

"I like it," he said seriously, not hearing the humour in my voice. He stepped back then and looked me over more carefully. I hadn't been able to see what the dress looked like properly, but I was sure it must look good. The top half laced at the back, and had a low neckline, while the bottom half fastened at the front with the black sash, and hung low on my waist. In India I had been proud of my slightness, but after comparing myself to the curvy women here I had begun to feel too thin. I don't think Clopin noticed it right then, however. He lifted a hand and pushed my hair back over my shoulders, letting his fingers run through it.

"I was going to wear it into the Centre just now," I told him. He broke out of his thoughts.

"Absolutely not!" He said, moving past me. "Take it off. Put something else on. NOW!" He finished his speech violently, and I grudgingly went to do so.

I changed away from him, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't turn around, and then I strode up to him.

"Much better," he muttered. "For outdoors, anyway."

"I might just remind you, you are not my lord and master," I seethed at him. "Don't ever shout at me like that again, I'm not a slave!"

"No, but you are a foolish little girl!" he snapped back.

I shook my head, too enraged to open my mouth, and went and sat next to Chester, sulking.

Chester, for his part, had raised his head and was staring very intently at Clopin. The raised voices had aroused him, and in his view, Clopin had been attacking me. Clopin didn't look at me at all, just smoked his pipe, thinking his own thoughts and leaving me to mine.

"I thought you were going to the Centre?" he said after a while, startling me out of my sulk.

"I'm not in the mood anymore," I said crankily. "I don't feel like it."

He shrugged. "It's up to you."

"I know that!!"

"Remember what I said, Herlikin - if you ever wear it outside of this tent -"

I broke in. "But I can wear it in here?"

He glanced at me. "In here is fine, so long as it never leaves here."

I smiled, somewhat placated. "Good. It reminds me of home."

"This is your home now," he said softly.

I stood up. "Excuse me," I said stiffly. "I think I feel like a walk after all."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

I left the tent rapidly and walked towards the Centre, my heart pounding, and my cheeks flushed. A lot of the gypsies were there, talking and laughing amongst themselves, several playing instruments together, sharing food and the like. I crept past them carefully, and scurried to the back of the stage. I slipped behind the drapes and climbed to the little alcove Clopin had shown me a week ago. Once there, I threw myself down in the darkness and sighed deeply.

I thought for a little while about the disagreement and I was truly sorry it had taken place. I knew I should've thought more about what would be considered acceptable dress here, but I had in part made it because it was what I was used to, and felt most comfortable in. I thought about India and the sun, and Chester and hoped he hadn't made things difficult for Clopin after I left. Then I remembered Clopin and the things he'd told me when we had sat here together. I wished then that I could go back and apologise but I knew my pride wouldn't let me. And that felt suddenly lonely, and I wanted desperately for someone to hold me. I fell asleep with an image of Clopin stroking my hair.

-----

I awoke several hours later with a deep feeling of anxiety, and hurriedly I climbed down, pulling aside the drapes carelessly and running back to the tent. As I neared, I slowed down and calmed down too. I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my dress, then walked casually back. I saw that both Colombine and Clopin were sitting out in front of the tent, and I walked up to them, a large smile for Colombine on my face.

She returned the smile and raised her eyebrows and waggled them. Clopin, on the other hand, just looked at me disinterestedly.

"Enjoy your walk?" he asked with sarcasm. I didn't answer, just went inside. I heard someone behind me, and expecting it to be him, whirled around. It was Colombine. She came towards me, with her eyes gleaming.

"He was very worried about you, you know," she whispered. "That's why I'm here. He came over to ask me if you knew where I was. He was practically in a panic, I think he thought you'd run off somewhere. Then about five minutes ago, he just calmed down and said he knew where you were after all. Where were you?"

"He was truly worried about me?" I asked her in a hushed voice. She nodded vigorously.

"You'd better believe it. Though he'd rather die than admit it. Where were you?"

"It's a secret," I told her and she frowned.

"Oh come on, Herli!" she said.

"No, it's a secret place," I said stubbornly, and she shrugged. "Alright then. I have one of those too. Meanwhile, better step out and make your peace with your husband. Stop misbehaving." She gave me a playful slap on the rear and pushed me outside.

He was still sitting there, displaying an outward calm, looking ahead and appearing not to have noticed me. I sat down cautiously beside him.

"So what fascinating route did you take on this three hour walk?" he asked me dryly.

"You and I both know I didn't go for a walk, Clopin." I grumbled. "Come on now - we agreed we wouldn't fight, remember? And - " here I took a big swallow " - if you're sorry then so am I."

He shot me a sidewards glance. "And if you're sorry then I'm sorry too," he reiterated.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" exclaimed Colombine who had snuck out to stand behind us. "Let's just say you're both sorry and have done with it! Lord!" and she strode off to her tent.

We smiled at each other then, the ice broken finally.

"Puhleeeease speak to that beast of yours about me, Herli!" Clopin said to me "He growled at me until I left, when you'd gone. Imagine! Booted out of my own tent by an over-protective tiger!"

I laughed. "I'll try," I promised him. "How far away is the warm weather?"

"Johannes believes the snow will start to melt in a few days time, despite what today's weather might suggest. As soon as it begins, you can go out, but there will still be a chill in the air. Make sure you wrap up warmly."

"I will." I said. "I've also been thinking of taking up performing again," I finished in a rush. He looked at me.

"Oh?" he said. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know as yet," I admitted. "But there are plenty of things I can do."

He pulled a face. "So long as it isn't dancing. And I don't advise you to take your big white monster up there."

"I wasn't planning to. Though he will have to leave here at some stage, before he goes mad."

"When the nights get warmer. You can sneak him up then. Not in the day-time, though. If you want money, Herli, I can give you some."

"I don't want to take money from you!" I grumbled. He shrugged.

"Alright then, if you can come up with something you think is good enough, you can perform. But make sure it's good, and different. Parisians are a critical audience and busking gypsy women are a very common sight."

"I'm sure I can manage," I said huffily. And I was determined to do so. Like Geraud had said that day I arrived - I would dazzle them all!

-----

Sure enough, a few days later the snows began to melt. I couldn't express my relief when Clopin told me. I was so eager to see the sky and the sun and the trees and people again, I was ready to cry. He told me that he would take a few days off to show me around, but after that I would have to manage on my own. That was fine with me, and my restlessness increased by the minute. Finally, on the third day of March, Clopin decided I could come up.

"You know, my audience will be very disappointed I won't be there today," he scolded me. "Hmmm, I'm sure," I said, tying a scarf around my head and wrapping my cape around me. He raised his eyebrows delicately.

"What, you don't believe me? Alright then - you most certainly will have to watch me perform."

"With much pleasure, sir," I said, making him a little curtsy. "In fact, I can barely wait."

"No need for sarcasm, sweetness," he said, hustling me out of the tent.

"I was in total earnestness, darling, I swear," I said, widening my eyes innocently.

I practically danced towards the exit. Clopin caught my cape to lead me another way.

"Not through the tavern today, cherie. I don't need to get distracted."

I only grinned and let him lead me away. I watched the way we went carefully, knowing Clopin would not be showing me again and again. We arrived at a ladder set in the wall.

"Let me go up first, little one. I need to get the door open." He climbed up quickly, and perched at the top of the ladder, working the door a little, then pushing it open fast. I climbed up, and he helped me step through. I was somewhat surprised to find ourselves in a very cold, dank stone cellar. A huge iron door was set in one wall, but that was all I could see.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held a finger to his lips, a look of urgent warning in his eyes. He fastened the trap door quickly and quietly, then stepped to the wall. He pushed on a stone that stuck out a little way further than the others, and to my amazement a space in the stone wall opened, making a soft grinding noise as it did so. Clopin grimaced and looked through it cautiously, then we stepped through it. The door slid back, and I saw we were in a small dark alleyway. He grasped my hand and we ran down to the end of it, ducking into a doorway. He sighed once we got there.

"That door is too noisy. I'll have to come up with a couple of the men and fix it," he muttered.

"Why did we have to be so quiet?" I asked him. He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling.

"That's one of my favourite exits, simply for risk value," he told me. "Do you know where we just were, cherie?" I shook my head, no. "We were in an unused dungeon in the Palace of Justice!"

My eyes widened in surprise. I had heard plenty of stories from my fellow gypsies about the infamous court and the terrible things that happened there, under the judgement of the evil Claude Frollo. Clopin chuckled at my expression.

"Don't worry, love. I could've handled any guards who might've heard us, but I try not to slit throats under such dangerous circumstances. Another notch against the gypsies we don't need."

I nodded. "But how did it get there??" I asked him in a whisper.

He shrugged. "I don't know. We've always used it to help prisoners escape, but now that cell isn't used anymore we use it to get in and out if we're feeling particularly adventurous."

I whacked him.

"So you thought you'd bring me through there on my very first day out?"

"Relax. It's not your first day out, for a start, and the risk isn't that high, so long as one is careful."

I glanced back down the way we came. I could see the wall we had exited from extended up high in the sky, but I was unable to see much of the building at all.

"Come on," Clopin said, taking my hand again and leading me out onto the street. I noticed several guards milling around nearby as we walked out from the alley, and I felt a slight thrill of apprehension, but I realised in our cloaks we were covered, and would not be particularly noticed.

I glanced back to look at the Palace of Justice. A formidable piece of Gothic Architecture, it was a dark blotch against the blue sky, ugly and intimidating. I shivered and turned away again.

The snow hadn't completely melted away yet, and they were still piles of it here and there, like cold clouds on the cobblestone streets. The ground was wet from the melting water, and the chill in the air was fierce. But I couldn't care much. Once we were away from the Palace, I was too happy. The sky was a light blue, lighter than it ever was in India, and speckled here and there with white and grey clouds. Dark grey ones hovered low in the distance, a promise of rain to come. The sun was also paler than in India, and the glow it gave was soft and warm.

I took deep breaths, savouring the air, and looked around me. The streets were bustling with people going about their daily business. Women in their bonnets and cloaks, carrying baskets as they shopped, gossiping in groups or calling out to children to stay by their side. The men stood out in front of the shops, discussing business or pleasure, or hurried off to appointments. Shopkeepers busied themselves with their displays or wares, calling out cheerful greetings to each other. Even though people appeared so busy, no one seemed to be in a great rush. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable. I was enjoying myself immensely.

For a while we simply wandered the streets, exchanging small talk, Clopin pointing our various places of interest, or certain people with a story behind them. I stored everything away very carefully in my mind. I kept thinking to myself that Paris was going to be a splendid place to live - and as pleasant as my present company was, I was looking forward to exploring on my own.

I was so thankful to be out in the air again, I could barely contain myself. I danced along the streets and sang under my breath, while Clopin laughed at my eagerness.

"You like it, no?"

"Oh yes! It's wonderful!!"

"The good weather is here to stay. You can come up every day if you like."

I squeezed his hand tight as we moved into the Town Square. I glanced up at Notre Dame, and again found myself awe-struck. I suddenly remembered something, and punched Clopin in the arm.

"Ow! What have I done now!" he exclaimed.

"You have to tell me the truth of the Devil in the Bell Tower!" I said.

He grinned. "Ah, yes. I was wondering when you'd remember that. Well, cherie, I hate to disappoint you, but the truth is not all that exciting. It's true, Frollo keeps a poor deformed creature up there, but it is just an unfortunate boy, sadly born with a hideous visage. And he doesn't ring the bells. He's barely three years old! One of the priests does that. But the hunchback - for he is that too, as well as being hideous - lives in the belltower and none but Frollo ever sees him. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up ringing the bells. What else can they do with him?"

I pulled a face. "You're right. The truth isn't as exciting as the fiction. But it has its own thrill. How did Frollo obtain this boy?"

"Ahhh... No-one but Frollo and the Archdeacon know the real answer to that. I believe Frollo is even under the impression no-one knows about the boy. But Clopin, King of Thunes, knows everything that happens in this city!!!!! Well - almost everything. As far as I have been able to find out, Frollo inadvertently killed the boy's mother, and the Archdeacon ordered he raise the boy as penance."

"Then why is he kept in the belltower?"

Clopin shrugged. "Because Claude Frollo is a cruel man and a hypocrite besides. Anyway, that's the true story. I tell a much prettier fiction to my audience."

I thought for a few moments.

"If you did it right, the true tale could be just as thrilling."

He glanced at me. "You think?"

"Why not? Talk in a deep and foreboding voice, make the boy's mother a poor gypsy, persecuted for her heritage - have Frollo prepare to kill the boy before the spirits of Notre Dame stop him and sing a few songs. The audience would lap it up! I know I would."

He stroked his goatee. "Hmmm...I'll think about it."

We reached the other end of the square, and I saw around Clopin's cart a group of children were gathered.

"Ah, it's my devoted audience!" Clopin told me. "How sorry I am to have to disappoint them today."

We drew closer and the children turned around. They recognised his lanky form and dark face, even under the great cloak he wore, and they ran up to us, jumping excitedly.

"It's Clopin!! It's Clopin!" I heard them cry as they danced around him. "What story will you be telling us today?"

Clopin shook his head mournfully and smiled down at them. "I'm so sorry my little friends, but Clopin has no stories for you today. I have many things to do today. Perhaps tomorrow."

A little cry of disappointment came up from the audience. Clopin mimicked them, pulling a terrible sad face and hunching his shoulders. They laughed at him and he smiled back. I saw the affection he looked at them with, and saw that other children, and several adults were beginning to make their way over. I went up to Clopin and touched his shoulder.

"You know, you should perform for them, if they want it so badly."

He shook his head. "No. I need to get you acquainted with the city as quickly as possible."

"I've seen enough of it today to know my way around! I wandered around the jungles a lot in India and never once got lost! I can manage."

He hesitated. "A city is different to a jungle."

"Not so different. Besides - I would like to see you perform."

He smiled at me, pleased. "Very well. As you insist, I am never one to disappoint a beautiful woman. And it looks as though there are many beautiful women waiting for me today!" he said, looking behind me.

I glanced back and saw that the audience had grown greatly, and there were many young and pretty women, some with gentlemen, some not. I gave him a little shove and he chuckled.

"Go out and watch, " he said. "I'll do this one for you, ma petite." He kissed my hand quickly, and pulled his cart out from its resting spot. The audience applauded happily, glad they were going to have a show. He swiftly unlocked the side door and disappeared within, and I went to join the audience, standing as close as I could.

Within a few seconds he appeared through his little door, in full costume dress, and with Puppet merrily waving to the children. Then it began. First there was a little argument with Puppet over who the audience was waiting to see, and Clopin came out the victor, thanks to his little stick. Puppet sulked, rubbing his head, and Clopin began his tale.

It was the tale of the Devil who rang the Bells in Notre Dame. Clopin's voice was entrancing, with its rises and falls, the subtle nuances he put into every phrase. Several small Puppets appeared, skilfully manipulated as the tale unfolded - Frollo, the Devil, the Archdeacon. I was completely caught up in the tale, unaware of who was around me. Everything he'd said was true - he was a brilliant storyteller. But when he began to sing, my heart sped up, and I felt a burning flush sweep over my skin. His voice was magnificent, golden, passionate and perfectly beautiful. I couldn't have left if I wanted to. I could only stand and listen, giving myself up to that voice.

The song came slowly to an end, and there was a short pause before the audience broke into delighted applause. The spell broken, I looked around me - the audience had practically doubled in size. I was amazed. Clopin, meanwhile, was the consummate performer. He bowed graciously, thanking the audience smoothly. Children tugged on their mother's skirts and were given coins to drop into the box Clopin has fastened below the window of his cart. Several of the adult performers walked up, dropping handfuls of coins in as well, particularly the young girls who blushed and giggled and moved quickly away when he thanked them, his voice low and sincere, his eyes seductive below his mask.

Finally the last of them moved away and I went up to the window where Clopin leaned through, watching them with a satisfied smile as they all walked slowly away, many looking behind to see if another show was going to start, although Clopin had said this was the only one today.

He smiled down at me, his eyes knowing and triumphant.

"Well, cherie?" he asked, stroking the hand I placed on the window sill.

I shrugged, and tried to appear nonchalant, though I could barely keep from smiling. "You were good, I'll admit it."

He leaned down so he was on eye level with me.

"The best you've ever seen, no?"

"No. Alright - yes. You were."

He straightened up and laughed triumphantly. "I knew I would be."

I grimaced. "Alright, don't spoil it. Get changed and come out of there. You're even taller than usual. And I think your head is beginning to expand with all that hot air. You'll be trapped unless you move quickly."

He laughed again and in a few minutes he rejoined me on the streets.

-----

The next day I went out with Colombine, who told me excitedly that it was market day, and that all the stalls would be open.

Upon arriving at the markets I felt very much at home. I suppose markets are very possibly the same everywhere. Stall after stall of people selling their wares from far and wide, all set up in the town square. We moved in and out of the rows of shops selling fabrics, pottery and jewellery. Much of it was cheap and poorly done - but there were some beautiful pieces of true craftsmanship as well.

Some of the sellers were gypsy nomads, in town for the day before moving on. Colombine knew several of them, and they greeted each other happily. We both of us spent a lot of time at the various jewellery carts, and I noticed Colombine's face was invariably smug each time we moved on. I guessed she was picking up various items that took her fancy and I smothered a laugh. She couldn't help herself. It didn't seem to matter - the stall keepers were so busy bartering they hardly noticed us, and there wasn't a guard in sight. I wondered curiously what things she had picked up and whether they were very pretty.

We emerged from the thick of the stalls in order to sit down and drink from a nearby pump. Moving amongst so many people, pushed so close together had proved to be extremely stifling, and I was glad to relax and breathe in the still cold air.

I looked over to my friend who was sitting in her black and white dress, grinning like a maniac. I leant over to her and whispered, "I know you took things Colombine, how did you do it?"

She looked a little dismayed, then whispered back, "I couldn't help it, Herli! They were so pretty! I'll show them you when we go back to the Court. I got some pretty things you'll like too. But Lord, don't tell Clopin! I nearly got caught the last time!"

"Don't worry about it. Clopin said we should only steal necessities. Jewellery is a necessity, right?"

She laughed. "Right!!"

We were roused then by a commotion nearby. A couple of guards had arrived and were making their way through the markets, investigating anyone who looked even remotely Romany. A hobbling old man, covered from head to toe in old cloak was grabbed by one. He pulled the hood off to reveal the "old man" was in fact a young truant, furthermore when the soldier began shaking him by the collar, a variety of wares fell out of his clothes - jewellery, cloths, fruit and the like. At this stage more soldiers had arrived, and spurred on by the discovery of this thief, were making a more vigorous and aggressive search of any unfortunate in their path.

Colombine and I stood up, feeling slightly uneasy. The boy was being pulled by the scrag of his neck, and the soldiers meanwhile were coming closer to where we stood.

"Time to beat a hasty retreat, I think," Colombine muttered to me. I nodded.

"Do you think we should try lending a hand?"

I shot her a glance. "Lend a hand, how? Neither of us is prepared for something like that. What do you propose we do?"

She shrugged and grinned. "Improvise?"

I grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go now, before they see us and discover what you have on you."

That brought her to me. "Good idea. If anybody goes missing, we'll hear about it later. Clopin will organise something."

We ducked silently down the first alley we came to, and then crisscrossed our way to Paquette's tavern; to make sure no-one was following us. Unlikely, but possible.

When we got there we made our way quickly to the backroom, but before opening the trapdoor we paused and looked at each other.

"Do you think we should have helped?" I asked, feeling a little guilty.

She shook her head. "It wouldn't have done any good. The two of us may have been able to run circles around those nitwits in armour, but then we'd just be on the wanted list. Which means you'd once again be confined underground AND Clopin would be furious - with both of us. Anyway, that boy really was a thief. If anything really terrible happens to any of the others, the Court will do something. It happens all the time, you'll see."

So saying we quickly flung the trapdoor up and disappeared within.

-----

The guards who assaulted the markets were evidently in a good mood, for only a couple of the genuine thieves ended up being arrested and dragged off to the Palace of Justice. But the soldiers had destroyed many of the traders' wares - pottery had been smashed, cloths stained and stalls broken. Working with the underground system I had yet to become acquainted with, Clopin sent them invitations to hide and repair their wares in another Gypsy stronghold - a ruined old chapel on the outskirts of the city. He would not have allowed them in the Court, for they were strangers and not Romanies. As for the boy whom Colombine and I had seen getting caught, Clopin was very angry with him.

"That Gulliame will end up being hung, mark my words, Herli!" he told me when Pierre, his number one gentleman spy, had brought him the news. "This is the third time since coming to Paris he has been caught. The least he could is practice, if he insists upon stealing for a living. You know what to do," he said to Pierre, "and make sure it's very clear this is the last time we will help him. The next time he gets caught he must get himself out of it, or be hung."

Pierre nodded and left. Clopin had several spies working around the city, all of them dark and unsociable creatures who came and went like shadows. There was Pierre and Lucille, the two best, then Jenessa and Marc, Paul and Odette. There were more, but I never saw nor heard from them. Clopin liked for all his bases to be covered, so there was rarely a time when he didn't know everything that was happening within the city.

But apart from that, the Court continued much as usual. During the day it was even emptier than usual, for with the good weather more and more gypsies left, and several even packed up their tents and left the court altogether to travel during the spring and summer.

I, for my part, was hardly ever within the Court either. I left with Clopin every day, and we would separate at the Square, he to perform, I to amuse myself. I'd return in the afternoon with enough time to fix supper for him, and we'd pass the evening pleasantly, talking over the day's events on our own, in the centre, or in the tavern.

Several times during the night I snuck Chester out, and he was overjoyed to see the sky again. I knew he would be even happier if I could get him onto some grasslands, but they were beyond the city and I didn't know my way well enough yet to take him there. He gratefully plunged into the river, for tigers love to swim, and we raced each other down the black streets. Within a few days he was looking better and far more content than before.

Exposure to the elements darkened my skin somewhat, so I was not so pale as before, and I was very pleased. The mix of good air and exercise and good food helped me to put on a little weight, and I was very proud of my now even curvier figure.

Colombine kept her word and taught me how to steal cleverly, pick pocketing and snatching things off tables whilst pretending to look at something else. She was delighted with me and told me I was the best student - and now all that was required was practice. She was rather less delighted when I chose her tent to practice within, and when I heard a bellowed "HERLI!" from across the way I knew she had missed whatever little nick-knack I'd slipped into my pocket, or had counted the bangles on her wrist and found one missing. Between us we gradually amassed an enormous collection of cheap jewellery and pretty scraps of cloth, all of which we hid from Clopin, not willing to find out how he'd react.

I soon grew very comfortable on the streets of Paris, learning how to avoid the soldiers, which taverns allowed gypsy patronage, and where the best places for shopping - and consequently performing - were. I still wanted to perform, but was working over an act in my mind. After watching Colombine (and she was an enchanting performer) I was more inspired than ever, and spent many nights in bed, the only time I had for thinking, or working on an act.

But for the time being I was content to simply learn my city. I realised very quickly that a lone gypsy woman was an easy target for soldiers and bullies, but I seemed unable to pass such people without antagonising them. Consequently I got plenty of exercise in running and avoiding larger fights.

It seemed worse when I was with Colombine. The two of us together were seemingly unable to avoid trouble; it was as though it came to find us. Clopin compounded it as well. The three of us spent a lot of time together, and combined we had a lot of adventures - but those are other stories I may tell you another time.

My introduction to Paris had been the final breakdown of any barriers I had built. I was now full of life and energy, and could barely sit still. At one point I had some small concern I was not attending to my wifely duties like I should, but that was ridiculous. The tent was perfect, and meals were always cooked. The only thing that remained was my virginity. But Clopin did not press me to do anything, although often at night we would lie holding each other, and still we talked. Indeed, we grew closer every day, and I realised quickly I held him dearer than even Colombine. I could see he was as fond of me also, for it was my company he now preferred to all others and I gradually shared all my past misdemeanours with him, and even told him a little of Raghu. In his turn he told me of his pain over his parents' deaths, his initial apprehension of running the Court, and even how he had tried to leave once before, as a means of avoiding our marriage.

It made me laugh when he told me, but I quietened quickly.

"Do you wish you had escaped it now?" I asked him softly. We were sitting on the riverbank under the bridge early one evening, watching the sunset. I was sitting with my legs crossed and he was sprawled out on his stomach. He rolled over to look up at me.

"No," he said with a smile. "You'll do." I smiled back at him and let him take my hand. We sat in silence for a few moments and then he spoke again.

"Herlikin - what does that mean?"

"It's a name my papa made up. He took it from 'Hellechina'. It means the same thing."

He grinned at me wickedly. "Little Devil?"

"Yes," I said and he laughed.

"Suits you. That's what your brothers called you, isn't it?"

I sighed and felt a little sad. "Yes, it is."

"I think, cherie, if it's alright with you, I'd like to call you that sometimes."

I smiled down at him and tickled his face with my fingernail.

"I wouldn't mind."

"Splendid," he said, and leapt to his feet. "Come on, we'll go to the tavern. Colombine said she'd be there this evening."

We hurried along as the streets grew darker, although I felt a little put out that he was apparently so eager to see Colombine. But then we were at the tavern, and the candles within threw out a cheery orange glow as the sounds of people singing and talking grew louder.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

We walked in, and could see her almost immediately, as usual perched up on the bar, cheerfully engaging in banter with whatever young fool tried to take her on.

Clopin waved disinterestedly to his friends, Jehan and Co, already drunk. They gave a joyous shout at his appearance, and tried to fight their way through the crowd to come over, but Clopin weaved skilfully through the throng, avoiding them and instead taking us up to the bar where Colombine sat.

I had learned Clopin did not like these "friends". He had told me they fancied themselves "truants", and for the gypsy people, but in reality they were nothing more than spoilt boys, intent on having as much fun as they could. I had laughed and said they sounded like him, but he had only shaken his head gravely. He told me they were very different, for any comradeship was pure fallacy. They cared nothing for no-one, and their supposed friendship with gypsies was just an act; they saw it as a means of access to the underworld, easy women, and debauchery. They would not defend us if we got into trouble and would deny any acquaintance with us, and furthermore, had no genuine respect for any of our people. As much as they denied it, their prejudiced upbringing was rooted within them. Clopin reminded me of how they would not apologise for insulting my appearance that time. For these reasons Clopin trusted nor liked no-one, and used them just as much as they used him.

They respected and feared him, as he represented the very pinnacle of underworld criminality (which was not true, but they were too stupid or drunk to see otherwise) They were pawns to whatever game he chose to play with them, happy to provide service if it would provide them with a swaggering tale to tell, and let them feel as though they were true protestors of the system, but Clopin would never entrust them with any of the gypsies' secrets. However, he had got them involved just enough so that they could be charged and hung, should anything ever go wrong with the gypsies - by both Frollo and Clopin.

I had noticed over the weeks that Clopin strongly disliked the Parisians. His only concession were the children, for children are innocent, but I knew he resented the townspeople's fear and prejudice of the gypsies. I could see it in the curl of his lip as they would leave after a performance, even after they had given him coins. I saw it in the coldness of his eyes as he watched women cross the street with their children to avoid some of our people. His indifference to them in general, to what went on in their worlds.

On the whole, he disliked them all. He performed for them because he was born to do so, but the only audience he loved were the children and his own. I would sometimes feel disturbed as I saw him laugh, smile and shake hands with those boys, knowing it was feigned - for I saw him use the same smile, laughter and graciousness on the streets of Paris in his Puppet cart.

Colombine had told me that at festivals Clopin would do anything for the sake of fun - no matter how cruel - and because of the festivities he was able to get away with it, and as a consequence sometimes undesirable things happened. But it didn't disturb him, for he felt the Parisians deserved it for all the unjust persecution of his people.

There was a cruel streak to Clopin, a definite air of coldness, the potential for great callousness. Perhaps what disturbed me most of all was that I could see it reflected in myself. I knew we made quite a pair. But what type, and what type might we become, two such similar beings leading an entire group of people?

But in the tavern that night I didn't think of these things, just embraced my friend and pulled myself up on the bar next to her. As usual there were several gypsies from the Court milling around, the regular clientele. There was little Cosette behind the bar, looking paler than usual, and extraordinarily anxious. Madame Paquette grinned and waved at us both and we returned the compliment, receiving our drinks from Cosette, who looked as though she were about to speak to Clopin before biting her lip and hurrying away.

I shook my head as I watched her. "She's strange, that little one," I said. "She always looks frightened of something."

"She's not that little," Colombine told me. "She's seventeen, older than you."

"You've got to be joking!" I exclaimed.

She shook her head. "No. Isn't she, Clopin?"

"She is indeed," Clopin said. "As for being frightened, I think she's just shy. She's very quiet, but well worth speaking to."

I didn't answer that. Clopin leaned on the bar and looked around the tavern. His eyes came to rest on something which evidently held his interest. I followed his gaze and found a group of women at the end of it, not gypsy, but young and pretty - and obviously easy. Truant women who spent their days pick pocketing and their nights seducing men so as to have a bed to sleep in. I knew men looked, and looked often, it was their way - but I had not seen Clopin look so steadily or so long since we had been married. But I turned away, masking my discomfort, to speak again with Colombine. She had noticed as well, and raised her eyebrows at me, before grabbing my hand.

"This reminds me - I have something to speak of to you later on. Don't forget!" she whispered. I nodded and we resumed conversation.

Meanwhile the group of women were beginning to break up as several of them gradually found men to hold their arms. Two wandered over to the bar to get another drink, and Clopin took advantage of it to move over and speak with them. They smiled at him welcomingly, and within a minute all three were laughing and talking like they had known each other all their lives. Clopin had never once stopped being charming and friendly with all the ladies he met with, and it never bothered me, but this night I felt it was something different. I felt a hand squeeze my knee.

"Don't worry about it," Colombine whispered to me. "Nothing will happen."

"I wasn't worried!" I snapped at her. She laughed.

"You're staring absolute daggers at those girls. If you're going to be jealous, make it less obvious."

"I am not jealous!" I hissed at her. "I just think it's extremely rude of him to talk to them when he's with us."

She giggled. "You're right, it is. Let's drop the roof on his head."

I laughed. At that moment little Cosette again appeared near us, the look of anxiety doubled on her face.

"Clopin!" she whispered in her meek little voice. "Clopin, I must speak with you!"

Clopin of course could not hear her, and she tried in vain to gain his attention. Colombine and I watched her with interest, but Clopin just continued speaking to the two ladies, unaware of her.

"Oh for goodness sake," I muttered. "CLOPIN!!!"

Both Cosette and Clopin jumped, startled, and Clopin turned around to face me, his look questioning. I gestured with my head to Cosette and he excused himself from the women and leaned over to her.

"What is it, cherie?" he asked, and Colombine and I leaned in closer to hear.

"I hear this when I take their drinks over to them. They're two soldiers in here." I saw Clopin tense. "You can't see it, because they're wearing cloaks. I heard them, they're angry because there are gypsies in here. I passed by them again a few minutes ago, and I heard them speak of making arrests. I think they may do something terrible. You have to get your people out of here."

Her eyes had filled with tears and her face was flushed red. Clopin nodded, his expression intense, and he turned away from the bar and motioned for me and Colombine to get down. Clopin finished his drink, keeping his expression casual, but I saw his eyes flitting around carefully. I surveyed the tavern too, and caught sight of a glint of silver over in one corner. By the window two men were seated, their cloaks wrapped around them from the cold, but one had stretched out his leg and I could see the gleam of armour on it. Their faces were ugly with the expression of anger and hatred on them, and I could see that they were chomping for a fight.

"There!" I said to Clopin "Over by the window."

He looked and nodded. "Alright," he muttered. "They've had a few drinks, by the looks of them. This could get ugly. No sense in getting in a fight in such a public place. We're going to do the smart thing."

He grabbed hold of a nearby gypsy by the name of Renault and whispered to him. "Tell all you see there are soldiers here abouts and to leave immediately. But make sure they DON'T go through the trapdoor in the backroom."

Renault nodded and passed the message on. Within a few minutes gypsies were beginning to make a stealthy exit.

Clopin turned to me and Colombine. "Come on," he said. "We're leaving now. Move towards the back exit. Look normal about it."

Colombine led the way, and I felt my heart beginning to pound. Stupidly, a grin crossed over my face. It was possible this could be a truly dangerous situation, but I seemed unable to find excitement in it. I began to giggle, my shoulders shaking with the effort to contain my laughter, although it could hardly be heard over the din of the tavern. Clopin poked me in the back, and I swallowed and got hold of myself.

The soldiers must have noticed the rapid disappearance of their chosen prey, however, for just as we neared the exit they leapt up and threw off their cloaks, drawing their swords.

The women nearby gave a shriek and the men jumped up in alarm.

"Keep moving!" Clopin hissed.

One of the soldiers called out then.

"Everyone stay where you are! We're looking for gypsy jewellery thieves who frequent the markets, and we have reason to believe they're in this tavern tonight!"

Although they probably used this as an excuse to merit the attack on the tavern, I felt my cheeks go red. Colombine glanced behind her to me, and I could see a flush on hers as well.

"All gypsies are to stay where they are for questioning. Anyone who tries to escape will be considered guilty and treated accordingly!"

A couple of the gypsies ran to make a move for the door then and the soldiers reacted. Swords drawn, they rushed forward and pandemonium ensued. Women screamed and men shouted, drawing whatever small weapons they had, and any gypsies who were left ran around, trying to hide amidst the confusion. Clopin pushed me and Colombine into one of the back rooms, the exit now entirely blocked off. A couple of the truant boys ran past screaming "the soldiers are coming!" and Clopin grabbed hold of me and pushed me down behind a barrel in the corner.

"Stay down!" he snapped. Then as the soldier approached, he grasped Colombine and pulled her into an embrace, kissing her vigorously, pushing her body down over the barrel I hid behind.

I heard a soldier pause at the doorway and give a snort of disgust before moving on. There was silence then, the only noise coming from the front of the tavern where the fight still raged. Clopin released Colombine and she sat up, gasping and laughing.

"Clopin, I never knew you felt this way!" she giggled. I, on the other hand, was not amused. Words were beyond me, feelings it seemed, were beyond me, for I didn't even know what I felt right then except I hadn't liked watching him kiss her.

"Shush!" he said "It's not over yet."

He again grabbed me roughly by the wrist, and led us both into the room where the trap door was. He opened it quickly and pushed us unceremoniously down. "Go straight back to the tents," he said. "Do not stop once, and do not dare turn back. I have to go make sure everyone is out alright."

And with that he let the trap door drop. We were left in darkness, and over the way I heard Colombine begin to giggle.

"Come on!" she said, groping for me and pulling me down the passage.

"But - Clopin - he went - " I stammered.

"He'll be fine" she said cheerfully. "He gets caught up in those kinds of things often. As long as he works with his body and doesn't run off at the mouth, he gets out fine. The problem is, he never can resist making some kind of infuriatingly witty remark. But he'll be fine."

I pulled my hand out from hers and didn't answer. For some reason I was still feeling edgy and disturbed. Colombine didn't appear to notice, however, and continued:

"Most of the times I join in, but I guess since you're here, he wanted me to get you back safely."

"I can fight!" I said angrily. "I can hold my own! I'm not afraid of those soldiers!!"

She laughed. "Don't take it like that!!! He's just watching out for you, you should be grateful!"

But I wasn't. I felt upset and unsettled. Colombine strode on ahead, laughing over the excitement, but I dragged behind, sulking and cranky.

"Oh yes!" she said. "I remember! I have to talk to you about your relationship with Clopin."

"That's the important thing you want to talk to me about?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes!! And it is important!! Very important!! Come on, we'll go sit in my tent for a change."

We arrived with her still giggling, and I still pouting. She poured us both a drink and we settled down on the cushions.

She took several deep breaths and calmed down a little. Then she focused her attention on me. "You still haven't had relations with him, have you?" she asked.

I blushed and shook my head. She shook hers also.

"Herli - you've been married for a month and a half. Don't you think it's getting slightly ridiculous?"

"I don't know!" I burst out, angry at this intrusion. "Things are going so well between us, I don't want to ruin it by forcing my body to do something. He's - I trust him. He's my friend. But I can't make myself do it."

She sighed and raised her eyebrows.

"Besides which - he hasn't even tried anything. He doesn't attempt to touch me like that anymore."

"I bet he doesn't!" she said dryly.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed again. "Look, Herli - surely you noticed the way he looked at those women tonight? Well, I've been noticing that for a couple of weeks now. Never mind him being charming and all kissy-handsy, Clopin's just like that and he always will be. But I'm sure you noticed that tonight it had a different feel about it. I used to watch him talk to women like that when he had a mind to bed them. Before he was making a concentrated effort to not flirt, to make it clear he was taken and no longer available. But slowly, that resistance is being worn down. You know Herli, if you only would, he'd never desire another woman again. I know the way you two talk to each other, I've seen how close you've grown. And I know he finds you maddeningly attractive. He told me himself he hasn't been stirred like that by a woman - "

"You spoke to him about this?" All through her speech my temper had been rising, but this last shocked me. She looked at me, surprised by the savagery in my voice.

"Yes, yes I did."

"When?"

"Well - a couple of days ago, it - "

"Where?"

"Well in his Puppet Cart of course. I went to visit him."

I took a deep breath. "You were in his cart?"

She looked more surprised still. "Yes. I often go there. We eat together."

"And you discussed this, the two of you? Discussed what goes on behind our closed doors?"

She looked shocked. "Well, Herli, it wasn't intrusion. He wanted someone to talk to, and I thought he needed to talk."

"Tell me everything."

She looked exasperated now. "That's what I'm trying to do, dear. If you'll stop interrupting me, I can!"

"Alright, alright," I grumbled.

"Thank you! Anyway! He says he cares about you too much to force himself on you, and he doesn't particularly want to fool around with other women, but he thinks he's going to burst! That little display in the tavern wasn't deliberate. It wasn't an attempt to make you jealous. It was just Clopin smelling other women and being too frustrated to ignore it. I told you his patience would wear out. It's wearing out now. Soon he will, and it won't be you and then he won't be able to stop."

"And much joy to him too!" I snapped, feeling very sorry for myself.

"Herli, you have to understand we're talking about a man who hasn't been without a woman longer than a week since he was fourteen. He thinks you're divine, and I know you think he is, but all this pushing him away is just making him more receptive to the charms of other women. The worst of it would be if it was with one of the girls from the Court. Or more of them."

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but to be honest I couldn't care less," I snapped, pretending to turn my attention to the embroidery on the pillows next to me. "I really don't care if he sleeps with all the women of the Court, it's nothing to me."

She put her hand on mine. "It will be. Not only will it ruin any future chance the two of you have, the women won't respect you. They know Clopin has a staunch heart, and for you to not have held it will make you less than a woman to them. They won't listen to you and they'll make life difficult for you. Trust me, in this situation it's not enough to just be friends."

I wiped away the tears which had sprung into my eyes. "And what about the kiss the two of you shared? Was that deliberate or was it just male instinct?"

"Alright, I was a little surprised by that too. Maybe he wanted you to see it, but I think more than anything it was just to dissuade the soldiers. I've told you, he and I share no interest in each other, apart from being friends."

I couldn't think of anything to say. The truth is, I didn't want Clopin to sleep around either, but I also wasn't sure I could sleep with him myself. I knew I cared about him very deeply, but I wasn't sure how. I'd changed so much since coming to Paris my feelings were in a whirl and I needed more time to sort them out.

Colombine squeezed my hand sympathetically. "Look, Clopin told me he's going to give you a few weeks more, and I think that's more than fair. I really think you should try hard, Herli. I also think you should go and visit Abigail. You know who she is, right?"

I nodded. Abigail was the Court's resident "wise woman". Ancient and wizened, she sat in her tent and the gypsies would go and seek her counsel in times of trouble. I had at first thought she was a bad cliché, but apparently everything she predicted came true, and all the advice she gave was good.

"Take Clopin with you. You won't have to explain anything to her, she'll know. But do it, Herli. And do it soon."

I gulped and nodded again, wiping my eyes. Colombine gave me a hug.

"There now, everything will be alright, you'll see. I wasn't sure at first, but I am now. You two are meant to be together."

"Hmmmmm."

There was noise from outside the tent and we looked to see what it was. It was Clopin, grinning and a mess. He burst into the tent and raised his hands above his head.

"Clopin Triumphant!!!" He exclaimed, and threw himself onto the cushions beside us.

"Ahhh" he sighed, stretching his legs out. Colombine jumped up, and giggled, pulling on the front of his tunic.

"Come on, tell me everything, Clopie!! What happened??"

He pushed her hands away. "My dear Colombs, let me tell you that your Clopin was dazzling!! Right into the middle of it I leapt, and I kicked and punched and fought, and it was a glorious mess!"

"What about the soldiers?"

"What about them? They were long gone by then. It was a free for all."

I looked at him in surprise. "You mean you just went in and joined in the fight? For no reason?"

He sat up, mopping sweat from his brow.

"Yes! Well - they were there, I was there, what else could I do?"

I shrugged. "Men. They're beyond me."

Colombine, meanwhile, was still giggling. She put her hand on his upper arm, feeling his muscle.

"Working out some of that male aggression, eh, Clopin?"

"I have a lot to work out, Madame!" he sniffed. And he flexed his muscles for us. His eye was beginning to puff up and his mouth was swollen. His tunic was torn in several places and I could see blood seeping through his sleeve.

"Look at that!" I scolded, coming closer to have a look at the wound.

"Oh yes, I seem to recall falling on something sharp," he smiled.

I made him pull off his tunic, and used it to wipe away the blood. We looked at it carefully and decided it was only a flesh wound, but I still wanted to get it cleaned up.

Clopin leapt to his feet, his blood still racing from the excitement of the fight, his energy seemingly boundless. We bade goodnight to Colombine who was still laughing over the events of the evening, and turned to go. But at the tent flap Clopin suddenly turned around again.

"Oh by the way, my lovely ladies," he said in a tone of foreboding. "I had some time to make a few enquiries. You two frequent the markets, don't you? You wouldn't know anything about these 'gypsy jewel thieves' plaguing the stalls?"

I could feel my cheeks turn red and I looked at the floor. Colombine did the same, and with Clopin standing in the doorway, a silhouetted figure with his hands on his hips, we didn't have the nerve to even giggle.

He shook his head and groaned. "Just please don't get caught, you female fools!"

I was yanked from where I stood and with his now useless tunic wrapped around his arm, we made our way back to the tent.

"You're an absolute mess," I told him disapprovingly. "Look at you, all bloodied and beaten."

He laughed. "You needn't worry about me, cherie. I gave as good as I got, I assure you! There are boys going home with a lot more than a black eye and a cut arm!"

"Well I should hope so, otherwise you've nothing to justify ruining a perfectly good tunic."

He picked a loose and blood-soaked flap of it up from his arm and examined it closely. "Do you really think it's ruined? It can't be fixed?" I whacked him and he winked at me.

"Here, let's go past the Centre," he said.

"But it's right out of our way!" I exclaimed.

"Yes I know, but many will still be up, and this is a good opportunity to show all the girls my muscles, while I have no tunic on!!"

"Oooh!" I marched him to the tent. Once there I dressed his wound with herbs and wrapped a fresh piece of linen around it.

"We'll have to change it every day, and clean it too," I told him. "Otherwise it will become infected, and will have to be chopped off!!"

He made a pretended face of fear.

"By the way..." I began casually as I tied the dressing. "Colombine suggested we go and speak with Abigail tomorrow."

"Oh did she?" he asked me, just as casually. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd speak to you."

"Well you've spoken to me." I stopped what I was doing and we looked at each other.

"So?"

"So?"

"So, let's go and speak with her." I made the decision.

He kept looking at me as he said, "Alright. We will."

-----

The next day we parted in the square, agreeing we would speak with Abigail that evening. My thoughts wandered as to what the old woman would say, as I went into a fabric store and admired the pretty cloths there. Perhaps she would give us both advice that would miraculously cure the situation - and perhaps she wouldn't.

I'd like to stress that on this day I had done no stealing whatsoever. My pockets were entirely empty, and I wandered the store with a clear conscience. What happened next was entirely due to the prejudice of the Parisian woman.

I had stopped to admire a beautiful length of red velvet and ran my hands over it lovingly. I would loved to have owned just one gown made out of this fabric. It didn't even have to be a whole gown. It could be a bodice. Or even a pair of gloves. But I wanted it. The next thing I knew my hands were being slapped away, and a heavily powdered and scornful face was thrusting itself into mine.

"Take your hands off that, you little thief!!" she screeched, and I backed away in surprise. It was the storekeeper, whose eyes I had noticed watching me sharply as I'd wandered the store.

Foolish pride came to my defence and I drew up and glared at the woman in the eye, though she was taller than me.

"Excuse me, Madame, but I am no thief!! And what have I done to deserve that title in any case? I came into your shop with the sole intention of purchasing this fabric. However, due to your unnecessarily cruel treatment of me, I have changed my mind and will now bid you good-day."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Having spoken these words with my nose in the air, I turned to make my way to the exit. But I seemed to have enraged her further, for she shoved herself in front of me and assaulted me.

"Don't lie to me! I know you! You're a dirty thieving gypsy! Your kind come in here all the time and rob me blind when my back is turned!!"

If she was angry, so was I.

"Get out of my way!" I snapped at her. "You've been watching me like a toad watches a fly since I came in. You know I've taken nothing. Now move!!"

I know my face becomes ugly when I am angry, and I guessed she must've thought I was about to attack her for she moved closer to the doorway and looked out anxiously. She waved suddenly with her arm.

"GUARD!" She shrieked. "Guard!!!"

Oh no, I thought as I realised what was about to happen. I tried quickly to gather my thoughts, concentrating on the various hidden objects Colombine had advised me to keep on my person at all times, in case of such emergencies. Before I could make a move, however, two burly soldiers had filled the doorway and were glaring at me ferociously.

"What's the trouble, Madame?" one asked, trying to keep his gruff voice low in a lady's shop.

"That nasty dirty gypsy was about to steal from me," she sobbed, pointing her accusing white fingers at me.

"I take more offence at being called dirty than a thief!" I roared back. "I bathe every day, and more often that you, I'll warrant, you pasty-faced monkey!!"

She gave a cry of outrage and leaned in a faint, which apparently gave the soldiers their cue to move. They went to draw their swords and the lady gave a shriek.

"Mind my cloths!!"

They hesitated, and it was an opportunity I took. I grabbed a large roll of silk, which being heavier than I expected, I wielded very clumsily. I still managed to knock them over the head with it, distracting them momentarily as I ran to the back of the shop. Within a few seconds they followed me, and I kept them at bay by pelting bundle after bundle of silk, velvet and cotton at them. The shopkeeper screamed blue murder all the way as she followed them, waving her fist and pushing them forward. I fancy it was actually a rather entertaining sight. Finally the two overweight and heavily armoured soldiers slipped on the rich fabrics at their feet and stumbled over one another. The shopkeeper took this opportunity to climb over their prostrate and groaning bodies and clamber towards me, a look of fury on her face. I whipped a small dagger from under my skirts and wielded it in front of her face. She stopped, and all the colour drained from her features as she stared at me, stricken.

"Come one step closer," I said menacingly, "and you'll feel the sharp end of this!"

She took a step back, her face contorted, and then fell into a genuine faint, landing on the soldiers behind her who were just beginning to climb to their feet, knocking them back down again.

I turned and ran. I had not felt real fear until that moment, but I did now. Both the woman and the soldiers had observed me waving the dagger around, and whether they heard my threat or not was irrelevant. With such widespread prejudice against gypsies, were they to capture and arrest me, my fate would be sealed. Pulling the dagger out had been foolish. Had I continued to run, I could've left the shop and got away free. But my escape had been delayed by my actions, and I was guilty of another folly as I neared the shop's exit, for in a hasty moment of spite, I snatched the bundle of red velvet which had been the cause of all this trouble, and shoved it up under my skirts, wedging it under my bodice. By this time the soldiers had gained their footing and were hot on my heels as I exited the shop and ran at top speed through the streets.

It seemed they were weighed down by their armour, for I managed to put quite a way between them and myself, as I darted down the streets, dodging carts and leaping over barrels, and I almost began to enjoy myself, certain of my victory, even glancing behind me to grin at my pursuers, but that was the biggest mistake of all.

I tripped on a loose cobblestone as I approached a corner, and down I fell, my ankle twisting savagely beneath me.

I bit my lip and cursed out loud, and felt a shooting pain travel up my leg. A shopkeeper who'd left his place of business to see what was happening gave the soldiers a shout.

"Hi, you there! The gypsy girl is here!"

I glared at him in anger and hauled myself to my feet. The pain in my foot was excruciating, and I knew I'd never make it to the tavern on time to escape them. I instead ducked around the corner and through a lane, the town square my primary goal now. They were gaining on me with every step as I burst out into the square, running-limping for all I was worth. I could see Clopin's cart just over the way, and now I could hear their footsteps hammering on the stones behind me. My panic burst and I half-sobbed; half screamed in desperation:

"CLOPIN! Clopin!!"

I panted, the pain in my foot increasing and I again cried out, "Clopin!!" I saw him stop in the middle of his performance and look my way, his mouth open in surprise. The spectators had also turned and were gazing at me in some astonishment, and at the soldiers. Clopin spied them too and leapt into action.

He jumped out of the Puppet Cart and came forward to meet me as I sobbed in relief and fell into his arms.

"It's broken! It's ruined and crushed!!!" I cried out, stricken, and he looked at me in confusion, not knowing what I was talking about.

We both whipped our heads around as the soldiers approached, stopping in front of us, red-faced and panting from the physical exertion they were unused to.

"You there! Halt!"

"Halt?" Clopin repeated innocently. "Halt what?"

The soldier paused and then barked out, "Halt where you are!"

"It is? I thought it was halt where you are!!"

The soldier again paused, confused, and the other spoke up. "None of that lip, you ass! Hand over the gypsy thief!!"

Clopin made a face of panic and looked around him wildly. "Gypsy thief! Oh no, where, where???? There!! There he is!!" He pointed behind them. The soldiers and spectators turned to look. Alright, so did I. Clopin lifted me up quickly and threw me on top of his cart. He followed me nimbly, somersaulting up, to my amazement.

The soldiers were not pleased by his trick and they advanced on us and looked up in anger. Clopin again lifted me up and I threw my arms around his neck and looked, wide-eyed, down at the soldiers.

"Careful cherie," he whispered. "I have to time this just right."

"You up there!! Throw down the gypsy thief!!"

"What, you don't mean to suggest this lovely lady is a gypsy thief?" Clopin asked them incredulously.

"She is a thief! A thief!"

Clopin peered down at them. "Ah yes, so she is. She has stolen your moustache!!"

Neither of them had moustaches and the reply was so nonsensical that they sputtered with outrage.

"Throw her down or we will arrest you both!!"

"My apologies, messieurs, but we've become rather attached to each other!" he explained, motioning to my arms wound tight around his neck. "If you're that desperate for feminine companionship," - he raised an arm above his head - "I suggest you turn to each other!!"

He brought his arm down and the small pellets contained within his hand hit the roof of the cart with a spark, exploding in a cloud of magenta smoke, masking us from the streets. We heard the audience gasp, and at that moment we fell through a trapdoor. We were inside the cart for a brief second and then we fell through another trapdoor, falling through a brief dark passage and landing on some straw.

I lay, stunned, in his arms for a few seconds, blinking and trying to work out what had happened. I looked above me and saw an open manhole above us, and above that some wooden slats. Clopin set me down and I leaned against the stone walls, as he reached up and shut the manhole quickly, leaving us in darkness. I noticed before he did that the lid opened inwards, and guessed that it, and Clopin's cart had been organised in these places in case of such an emergency.

There was a spark and then he held a torch before him, and I saw anger and disappointment on his face.

"Damnit, Herlikin. Didn't I tell you not to get caught? If they ruin my cart, I'll never forgive you."

I sobbed. "Clopin! I swear to you I never stole a thing!! It was just some hysterical Parisienne, you know what they're like!"

He still looked doubtful. I continued. "Clopin please! I swear it! She grew angry because I stopped too long in her shop! You must believe me."

His expression softened a little and he stepped forward. "You stole nothing?"

"Yes. Well - I did take one thing but only AFTER they attacked me."

"AFTER???"

"They didn't see it! Don't be angry at me! If they ruin anything I'll repair it myself, I swear!! Please - I couldn't bear you to be angry at me again!"

He sighed, but then he smiled. "Alright. This once I'll forgive you. I hope you realise I won't be able to perform for several months. You might get away with it, but my face is very well known up there. You'd better get your act together quickly if you expect us to survive. Come on now."

"I can't!" I told him helplessly. "My foot!"

He looked puzzled but then his expression lightened. "Oh, so that's what you were talking about. Very well then."

He handed me the torch and then scooped me up in his arms and we made our way through the catacombs back to the Court of Miracles.

I poked him in the shoulder as we went along. "Stolen your MOUSTACHES?!?!"

He shrugged me off and grinned. "Give me a break. It was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment."

Several of the gypsies stopped to look and laugh as we entered, I windswept from the chase and Clopin in his performance garb, carrying me like a baby. "I hurt my foot!" I exclaimed, as they teased me for not wanting to walk through the sewers." I did! Tell them, Clopin!"

"We have a very spoilt Queen," he said in my defence. I pouted.

"Traitor!" I told him. He shrugged.

Nonetheless when we got to our tent he made a big production of looking after me, and I enjoyed it. Since we'd been married I had been the one attending to his needs and I rather liked this reversal of roles. If all men spent some time coddling their wives, there'd be a lot less arsenic slipped into wine.

"Here's the little Queen's silken pillow," he said, lowering me onto the cushions tenderly, as Chester padded over, anxiously sniffing my hair. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his beautiful velvet nose, and reclined, as Clopin ran around, fetching linen and putting some water on to boil. I reached up under my skirts and whipped out the red velvet triumphantly, and laughed. Clopin looked at it, bewildered.

"That's what you risked both our necks for, Herli?"

I could only keep grinning cheekily and nodded, then threw the velvet around Chester's back and rubbed it on his face, which he liked. Clopin frowned.

"And now you'll ruin that doubtlessly very expensive fabric by rubbing it on that tiger! Humph."

He knelt down before me and raised my skirt to look at my foot. "No higher than my ankle!" I shrieked in pretended modesty and he shook his head at me.

My foot was red and swollen, and even I shuddered at the sight of it. Clopin felt it gently, bending it different ways, and I slapped him and told him to stop torturing me.

"You're very lucky. It's not broken, only twisted," he concluded at last. "You'll have to try and stay off it for a few days. And that might just mean staying in the tent, for I won't be carrying you everywhere!" he finished.

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Do you have anything I can put on it?"

"There's some ointment over there next to my jewels box. In the purple jar."

He brought it over and wiped a little over the sore area of my foot, and then began to massage it in, very gently. I sighed happily and leaned further into the cushions. He watched me, smiling, before lifting my foot to his mouth and kissing my ankle. Then he pulled a face.

"Yeech!"

I swatted him with my precious fabric and moaned in disappointment when he finished the massage and went to wrap it up.

"Don't stop!" I begged, but he shook his head.

"Have you forgotten our appointment for the evening, cherie? With Abigail?"

I had forgotten all about it.

"Must we go?" I moaned, totally in the mood to simply lie around and be spoilt all night.

"Yes, we must! Firstly, she'll be expecting us, secondly, I said so and I'm the King!! Hahaha!!"

So I was again quite literally swept off my feet, and carried through the Court. I waggled my bandaged foot in the general direction of all we passed, as proof I was injured. "Look!" I exclaimed, triumphantly. Clopin for his part was rather enjoying playing the hero. Or perhaps he simply enjoyed me being helpless. At any rate he smiled and shouted for all to clear the path we came down.

"I carry a porcelain princess!" he joked. "I can't risk her so much as brushing against a tent, she'll shatter!!"

Abigail was a well-respected and important member of the Court, and her tent was only a little way down from ours. As we got nearer I caught a familiar smell in the air. Abigail had a monkey. I sniffed harder and Clopin looked at me peculiarly.

"Try to hide your insanity while we're in public, love," he said sardonically.

"Oh shut up," I answered him. I continued sniffing and caught the scent of fur and scales.

"You didn't tell me she kept animals," I said excitedly as we reached the entrance.

"You never asked. She used to let me play with some of them when I was a boy. As I got older I told the younger children she made potions out of them." He smiled at his memories. The tent flap was open and I heard a surprisingly youthful voice say from within "You can come in, no need to wait at the door."

Clopin ducked his head and moved into the dim light of the tent. Everything within was touched with a soft glow. Whilst few of the gypsies knew her true age, Abigail had been nomad for many years before settling down in the Court for almost as long. Yet she had few possessions, except for what was absolutely essential - a trunk, a smaller chest, her bed, a chair, a small stove and various objects I recognised as being tools in the arts of magic. As Clopin placed me down, I leaned against him and looked with delight at the tiny monkey on her perch, the large glass case in which a snake coiled, a few parrots on another perch, a large fat cat, a tank of mice and another with frogs. Clopin, meanwhile, looked straight ahead, his hat respectfully in his hands, a gentle smile on his face. I'd never seen him so still nor in control, and I realised I was being rude and looked quickly at the tiny woman in front of us, who stroked a large grey hare on her lap, and smiled a toothless smile.

Abigail was clearly ancient. Her hair was extraordinarily long, pure white and plaited. Her face was wrinkled and criss-crossed in a hundred places, and her figure was tiny and almost painfully thin. But there was strength in those tiny hands, and her large black eyes gleamed with intelligence and humour. Abigail had outlived all her children - three girls, who'd each borne the same gifts she possessed, and it seemed as though she would live on for many more years. She seemed to glow from within, a kind of incandescence which told the story of all her years and experience.

"Bonsoir, Madame Abigail," Clopin said politely, in lowered tones. "I trust you're well this evening."

She gave a short laugh and again smiled her toothless, but strangely beautiful, smile. "Damnit, Clopin, I knowed you since you was - what're they saying these days - knee-high to a grasshopper. Don't you be calling me Madame. Come here my boy!"

The spell was broken. Clopin's familiar toothy grin broke out, and he moved forward to sweep the tiny woman into his arms, and she gave him a great kiss on both cheeks, and forehead. She pinched his arms and stomach, and shook her head.

"You're still too thin, my boy. Gotta eat more, gotta be strong. I warrant that little one behind you has her hands full trying to fatten you up."

I had stayed behind, feeling a little shy, but why she turned her gaze towards me, I limped forward, smiling. Clopin held my hand and introduced me.

"I know you've heard about my wife Herlikin-Elise, Abigail. This is she."

"Hello, child," she said, solemnly shaking my hand.

"Hello Madame," I said softly. She looked me over and nodded.

"This one don't like being touched, not unless she invites it. Alright girl, you get you wish, but next we meet I expect a hug!"

I smiled, warmed. "Alright Madame."

She threw her hands up. "What's this with everyone calling me Madame? Just cause a woman gets old don't mean she wants everyone to tiptoe around her and do a lot of bowing. C'mon child, sit down. I can see you've hurt your foot. Trust this oaf, Clopin, not to think of that."

Clopin looked offended. "Abigail, I have to protest! I have been the very embodiment of husbandly consideration!"

"Shush! I don't need to speak with you now. Out you go boy, I wanna talk to your lady! Go on, out!"

Clopin left us, still looking miffed. She turned to me with a grin.

"Men - always thinkin' they're needed. I guess it is hard work, feeding him?"

I nodded. "He doesn't eat food, he inhales it. He consumes enough for all my five brothers, and then he back flips it off."

She chuckled into her chest.

"When he was a boy, I used to say he laughed it off."

I agreed. "Yes, he does that too!"

She startled me with a sudden shout. "And stop listening!!"

I heard Clopin muttering as we walked away from the closed flap.

The little monkey leapt onto her shoulder, and entranced by this beast who spoke to me of India with every movement she made, I held out my hand, making soft, coaxing noises. The monkey was curious, as monkeys often are, and took hold of my finger with her tiny paw, examining my hand and turning it over, sniffing as she did so. I took the paw gently, and examined it as she did, sniffing it as well, and she was amused by my mimic and jumped onto my knee. I scratched her ears and smiled down at her.

Abigail smiled at me knowingly. "You like animals." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. I do. I always have. I know no fear of them, although I respect them all."

"And you've missed little ones like her since coming here."

"Yes I have. She's lovely. What do you call her?"

"Jezebel, for she is that. Always causing trouble. Speaking of trouble, you've come here because you're in some, or you believe you are. I'll spare you the embarrassment of details, for I know of the problem. I can tell you how to fix it, although it will be up to you to do so. I can't do that for you."

"I understand that."

"I'm glad of it. Come here."

I edged a little closer to her, and she held my hands, examining both them and my face. She lifted a strand of my hair and smelt it, and passed her hands several times over my face. After a while, she sat back and nodded.

"Alright child, let me tell you how I see you here. You've suffered from your folly in the past, and to boot you've been uprooted from your home and your family. So you're on your defences. I know you think you've done some big opening-up, and perhaps you have, but you haven't been fully truthful with yourself.

"You're not only closing off to him, you're closing off to yourself. You won't allow yourself the pleasure of expressing your feelings, you'll barely allow yourself the pleasure of having them. But when you and Clopin first entered my tent, with you in his arms, both of you with straight backs and high-held chins, I saw all I needed to. Many have told you so, and so will I. This time, I advise you to listen. Your marriage was arranged for a bigger reason than simply uniting two Romany tribes. It's fate. It's your destiny - for both of you. Not everyone has the joy of finding their soul mate, no matter how many times they visit this earth. But you and Clopin have been that lucky. You have been brought together, because you must be.

"Remember destiny is not always about doing something you'll be remembered throughout the ages for - though that might be in your future, who can say! - it's also about being given a gift. You've been given the gift of finding the one person you can love to your full capacity. Don't take that for granted. It has happened - it will always happen - because people refuse to look. Which is what you're doing? You're not looking at him properly. You think you are, but you are not. Watch him more closely. Really look at him. I know he has wormed his way into your heart by way of friendship, I know you hold him dearest in that respect, but it's not the only way you're meant to love him. Trust me, when you start looking at that man with all your eyes, and you look right into him, you will realise just how much, and in what way, you love him.

"To help clarify things a little, he's almost doing the same thing, but not to your extent. Clopin has always been open with his feelings - far too open. When the two of you agreed to be friends, he instantaneously opened his heart to you, and you entered far too quick. But then he saw you weren't allowing yourself the same luxury, so he closed it again. He tries to open it, but is afraid. He knows, however, that he can trust you. He has some sense of what a truly important feature of his life you are. I know this because he shares with you what he has with no other. By doing this, he has broken down some of your ice, for you do the same with him. But as you refuse to see all of him, he can't get any further within.

"Speaking of 'getting within' - your refusing him is very easily explained!! And again it goes back to former folly. You're not only afraid of realising the full extent of your feelings, you're afraid of losing control. Control of yourself, control of him. Clopin is strongly independent, as are you. And you've never grown so close to someone like that before. If he wants to do something, he'll do it, even if it's not something you like. And so to your way of thinking - though you mayn't be aware of it - denying him yourself is a way of controlling him. For it's not simply about physical gratification or lust, it can sometimes be the most eloquent way of expressing deep love. And you, my girl, don't want to risk showing anything you don't think you're ready to show. So you keep saying no, no, no. But he ain't gonna wait for you to decide what you want much longer.

"So here's my advice: stop being so damned scared. You and Clopin aren't outta the woods yet, but you'll get there. Make the trip a little quicker. Give in to how you feel. Look at the man. That's it - you're done!"

I was slightly startled by this abrupt ending. Throughout I had been listening with mixed emotions, understanding what she was saying, but feeling confused nonetheless. Now the spell had been broken, and I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

"You may need to mull over it a bit, but don't spend too much time doing it. Now go on, and send your husband in."

I got with difficulty to my feet. She held out her hand to me, and I clasped it, squeezing and smiling down at her.

"Thank you, Abigail." I kissed her hand, and she smiled back at me.

"Here, I'll help you to the door." She stood up, shorter even than me, and bid me lean on her arm. I was stunned at her strength as she helped support me to the tent flap, and impressed. We peeked out and saw my royal husband standing some way down from us, smoking a pipe and still looking put out. I grinned and waved to him, and he strode back, pulling a face.

"It's my turn now, is it?"

"Aye, hurry up!" Abigail turned and went back inside, leaving me to clutch the tent for dear life. Clopin chuckled and picked me up.

"How did it go, cherie?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"That's for me to know and you to find out." I said smugly, then gasped with astonishment as he made a sudden move away from the tent. "Hey!" He plonked me down unceremoniously, and chucked me under the chin.

"Just so you don't listen in, love."

I sputtered angrily. "Please, like I would bother! That's your trick, remember! I wouldn't waste my time!" But he'd already left me, laughing softly to himself.

So I was left to sit by myself, with a throbbing foot and a great many ideas swirling around in my head. Perhaps all of what Abigail had said was true. Perhaps I was afraid to look at Clopin properly. I took a few deep breaths and courageously allowed my thoughts to wander. My heart throbbed when I came to the realisation that I treasured him above all else. I didn't very much like the thoughts of being separated from him. But just as quickly the idea sprang in that this was only because he was all I knew so well in this new place. Perhaps, had it been him to travel to India, I would not value his friendship so. But the one idea that remained constant was that I was not in love with him. I did not allow myself to even go there.

By the time Clopin rejoined me I had decided I would slowly follow Abigail's advice. I was not so convinced, as everyone else seemed to be, that we belonged together, but at least I might get around to having his children. So, with a new outlook already, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

It was Clopin as always, his long limbs graceful, poise confident and determined, eyes full of humour and pride. But I fancied I saw something else there, and whether it was imagination or reality, it made me glad of the way he lifted me up.

We made our way back to our tent in silence; I didn't ask until we got there how it went for him. He smiled at me charmingly.

"Very well, cherie. Things are a little clearer."

That was all that was said of the matter, then at least. I think we both wanted to think over what had been told us before moving on, so as I fixed dinner we shared only common small-talk. Supper, too, was a rather quiet affair, us both being unusually subdued and restrained.

At one point he enquired about my silence. I told him "my foot". Then I asked why he was so silent. He replied, "Your foot". And while we both laughed he carried me over to our bed. I changed under the sheets, which made him laugh so hard he choked, and I tweaked his goatee. He kissed my aching foot, and I his injured arm, then he blew out the candles and we slept.

-----

The next afternoon we learned from Jenessa, one of the Court's spies, that our adventure in the town square, combined with the inexplicable escape of the thieves from the Palace of Justice earlier, had made Judge Claude Frollo hungry for gypsy blood - in particular, their leader. My Clopin. It would appear Frollo had spies of his own, for he had learned of the Gypsy King's marriage, and putting two and two together had decided that Clopin's wife and the evil red-headed witch from the store were one and the same.

Furthermore, Frollo had decided that the Gypsy Royalty's death would make an excellent example to other truants and vagabonds, especially those so arrogant as to title themselves as sovereigns and leaders. I learned that both Clopin and myself were wanted - I on charges of witchcraft, the wilful destruction of an honest woman's cloth store, and the wielding of a deadly weapon with intent to kill. I was chilled to my very bone by these charges, frightened to know I was a hunted woman.

Clopin meanwhile, was being sought on charges of inciting the masses, encouraging depravity and thievery, assisting a witch in her craft (I assumed that was me) and blaspheming the King's name by taking that title to lead the heathens. And possibly murder. Jenessa told us Frollo had not decided on that one as yet.

"Murder?" I repeated, stupefied.

"Frollo knows his guards disappear somewhere," the black-eyed Jenessa told me, her tone ever so slightly scornful. She dropped it when Clopin shot her a vicious look, however, and then he surprised me by laughing.

"It's alright. My father was up on the same charges, and I too have been a wanted man before this. It's simply a matter of patience. I stay underground until the heat dies down. He's not one-hundred-percent sure who I am, and at festivals and the like I have immunity at any rate. I just won't be able to perform in the cart for a while - if it's still standing," he added, shooting me a meaningful look.

"Frollo believes exterminating you would be the answer to all his problems," Jenessa continued in her quiet, sullen voice. "He thinks that if you were to die, the Romani would lose hope. They would scatter, afraid. He could destroy them all."

"He doesn't know my people very well!" Clopin retorted, still grinning.

"Besides which, he'd repay you all the times you mocked him at the Festivals."

He gave a great guffaw at that. "This very episode is giving me new material!!"

"And the death of your little wife would see that you have no heirs, as well as cause you great pain."

He stopped laughing and glared at me where I sat, still frightened and wide-eyed. In a sudden mood change he kicked violently at some nearby crates, scattering them. 'Damned gadjes. Bastards!" He swore for several more minutes, kicking whatever lay in his path. Then he calmed down, and turned to us, that easy smile again spreading across his handsome face. But I saw still a glint of danger in his eyes, and it unsettled me.

"Alright, Jenessa, you've done well. You may go now."

She slunk away, disappearing quickly. Clopin turned to me with a sigh. "You see what's happened, now, Herli?"

"It wasn't my entire fault!" I interrupted him, feeling on the verge of tears. He held up a hand, and shook his head.

"I didn't say it was. But you had better grow used to the idea of living frugally for a while. We're both wanted people. And don't steal anymore."

I limped painfully to the bed, and lay down, sulking, upon it. I was tired from a busy day, compounded by having to limp around on an aching foot, and with this extra bad news my temper was short. A moment later I felt his hand on my hair, stroking it back gently.

"There now, Herli. I'm not angry at you. Don't sulk, I have tricks up my sleeve yet. And I've got into worse trouble without you. You're alright."

He waited until I gave him a little smile, and then he turned, putting his hat on.

"I'm off to the Centre, for a while. I want to talk to the men. I want to drink. You sleep, cherie. Let your foot rest."

He kissed my forehead, and I slipped a peck on his chin. Then he was gone, and it wasn't long before I fell into a fitful sleep, visions of the gallows dancing in front of my eyes.

-----

I was unsure how long I slept, but it was hours later when I awoke. The tent was black, and the Court was quite silent. I wondered, panicking, what had made me wake up, but I relaxed again when I heard Clopin muttering about a stubbed toe. He climbed into bed with me, pushing his body close to mine, and I realised with a start he was naked. Since our first night he had worn hose to bed, and although he was immodest about changing, I never really looked. I couldn't ignore what pressed against me now, however.

His hands stroked my hair and he whispered to me, asking if I was awake. I nodded and he pulled me closer.

"Good," he said, and began kissing me. Still hazy from sleep, and startled by the suddenness of it all, I did nothing but lie there. I checked his breath, and smelt faint alcohol, but it was no stronger than usual. So he wasn't drunk. His kisses travelled down my neck, and my fingers clutched his shoulders as I lay in the dark, uncertain of what to do.

He paused and sat up. I couldn't see him, but I sensed the movement.

"What did Abigail talk to you of last night?" he asked me softly.

"It doesn't matter," I whispered back. "It's my business."

He laughed a little. "She told me why you won't lie with me. Love, don't be afraid to show me. It might even be easier this way. She told me if we both realise that, and if you follow her advice and if I follow her advice, everything should be fine."

I felt a little apprehensive. "What advice did she give you?"

"She told me to stop taking no for an answer."

My heart thudded dully within me. I was beginning to discern his outline in the black, and he raised a hand, smoothing my hair again. He continued:

"She said it was the big mistake, and by giving in always I let you think you could control me this way."

"She told you that?" I said faintly.

I could see his dark silhouette nodding. His head bent to my neck again. "Just remember what she told you. Everything will be fine."

As his hands moved over me, I lay unmoving still, frightened for some reason. My mind raced with Abigail's words. Surely she didn't mean like this though? Not so quickly, not so violently. I had expected more time, more of a chance to adapt to this idea, more of a chance to follow the rest of her advice. And now Clopin was deciding to assert himself, assuming I was ready.

My nightdress was high above my waist now and I closed my eyes, tears beginning to fall, as I realised I couldn't stop him now. Not so much because he wouldn't listen, but because I truly had allowed it go on far too long. It was time that I do what I was supposed to do - as much as I wished it could be different. So I lay quiet and meek beneath him, allowing him to do as he liked. I began to notice by his frequent pauses, the way he kissed me, things he did, that he was trying to get a response out of me, but I was simply too uptight, too reluctant still to do anything. He seemed determined to continue, however, and as he pushed my thighs apart he kissed my eyes and tasted my tears. Again he stopped and asked me, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I replied hoarsely.

"Why are you lying so stiff?"

"I don't know," I answered pathetically. He lay on me still for a few minutes in the dark, and then jumped up violently, swearing for the second time that day. I heard something being kicked, and I hastily lit a candle. He thudded both fists down on the table, a grimace of frustration on his face.

"Damnit, Herli, damnit, what in god's name do I have to do? Enough is enough, I'm sick of this! It's ridiculous. A month and half! It's beyond ridiculous."

I didn't know what to say, so I just stared at him stupidly.

"Haven't I tried?" He continued his tirade. "I know I have! I tried very, very hard! Harder than I ever tried for anyone before! I'm sick of trying. Trying is a waste of time with someone like you."

"I was going to let you," I said brokenly. He came towards me, pulling his hose on.

"Yes, but you wouldn't have enjoyed it, would you? There's a big difference. You would've hated me afterwards."

"I would not have!" I cried. He just shook his head.

"Can't you understand? I don't just want to grunt on top of you for a few minutes. I want it to be more. It has to be more. You're my friend. I--" He stopped and stared at me for a few moments.

"You're my dearest friend, Clopin," I said softly. "That's why I would let you."

He sighed, and wiped his forehead. Then he began pulling on a tunic.

"Be that as it may - it's still a waste of time. You either don't understand or don't want to. And I'm sick of trying to understand you."

"Where are you going?" I cried as he reached for his shoes.

"For a walk," he replied shortly. "I need it."

I saw with sudden terrible clarity that if I let him go now he'd find another bed to sleep in, even if that wasn't the purpose of the walk. And once he did that things wouldn't get better. They wouldn't even be the same as they were. In a panic of losing him I cried loudly, "Please don't go!!"

"Shhhhh!" he hissed, annoyed.

"No, Clopin, don't go!! Stay here! Please - here - hold my hand!! I don't want you to go. You can do anything you like, but stay here with me!" I sobbed.

He paused, terrible indecision on his face, while I sat up in the bed, crying openly. Finally he relented.

"I'll stay," he said gruffly. "But I won't sleep in that bed. I sleep here, on the cushions. So call this blasted beast of yours away."

"Here Chester, come here my darling," I implored Chester, who'd glared at Clopin with a warning gleam in his eye. He padded over, and hopped up next to me, immediately monopolising the pillows. I watched Clopin as he stomped around, pulling off his clothes again and arranging the cushions to his liking. He was still in a rage, that much was clear, and I thought that if he stayed this way towards me, how much I would miss his smile and easy humour; his mocking yet sincere courtesy and the way he confided his troubles or worries to me over the Court. I wondered then if this is what Abigail had meant by seeing him, and I stayed watching him still as he wrapped himself up and lay down for the rest of the night.

"For god's sakes, blow that blasted candle out!" he grumbled, and I obeyed him hastily.

-----

The next day he wasn't there when I woke up, and I wrapped the blankets around me tightly, not so much from the cold as from the sobering memory of the previous night's events. I wondered if he were still angry at me, and whether I could swallow my pride and my fear long enough to give in to him willingly. Then I thought he just might be further angered by my sudden change of heart. I feared he had gone to another woman after all. I feared he was with her even now.

I shivered and pouted and again felt that overwhelming confusion of emotions. Clopin had been the very best of men in putting up with my constant difficulties, as well as being a good friend and guider. A lesser man would not have put with half as much, and I had shown him very little of the same consideration. So guilt-stricken, I buried my head on Chester's back and wished I could be different.

Clopin burst in then, and I jumped up, looking anxiously at him. He looked at me coldly, and my heart sank. So he was still angry then. He paced up and down a bit, then turned to me, pointing a finger.

"You're very, very lucky Madame," he said, quite savagely. "The damage to my cart was minimal." Despite his temper, I was relieved he had been checking on his cart and not locked in a passionate embrace with some passionate woman.

"Good morning, Clopin" I said softly, and he grunted in reply.

It was just the beginning of a difficult day. He hardly spoke to me, just grimly went about his business, as I did mine. I had no assistance with my foot, and was forced to hobble around, grumbling crossly to myself. I picked up my precious red velvet, and an idea began to form in my mind. I didn't act on it then however, just placed the fabric away in my trunk and busied myself with cleaning and tidying the tent.

I had lunch ready and he did oblige me by returning for it. "Tante Marie has invited us to her to tent for supper," he told me gruffly. "I told her we'd go."

"Very well," I said softly, sipping my wine. I thought about enquiring how long we'd have to stay beneath in the Court for, but the look on Clopin's face discouraged me. It wasn't exactly angry or frustrated still, more a frown of deep thought, as he stared intently into his plate. He finished his wine and stood up again, stretching.

"You're going again?" I asked, a trifle dismayed. He looked at me curiously. "Yes. I've got a lot of things to do. Remember? Why?"

"Well... I thought we might... Well, sit and talk, like we do." I finished lamely. He looked at me for a moment, then shook his head.

"Not today. Maybe some other day. Today I have important things to do."

And he left me feeling very cold. I cleaned our crockery savagely, putting it away with much noise. Exactly how Abigail intended me to follow her advice with that brute being so difficult to get along with was beyond me. He was simply being pig-headed now, trying to assert some kind of male authority over me, I was convinced. I concentrated the niggling hurt that I may have lost his friendship into anger at his stubbornness, and very quickly worked myself into a fine temper, with no way to vent it.

I opened my chest and found the small jewels box my mama had given me before I left. I rested my head against the unicorn carved into its front for a moment, and then opened it up. Since we'd arrived I had placed the rest of my most precious and beautiful pieces of jewellery in it, although none matched the heirlooms I had been given. None except for one - a unicorn talisman my papa had given me as a very small girl. Beautifully crafted in silver, with collared glass pressed into it, it had always served to comfort me in my times of greatest need. I sat with it clutched in my hand for several moments, concentrating on the unicorn's purity and virtue of nature, and shortly I began to calm down. I placed it carefully back in the box, and taking up my red velvet, began my work.

-----

That was how Clopin found me when he returned, calmly sewing. He grimaced at the sight of the fabric, then asked me if I was ready to go.

I nodded silently, and put my work carefully away. I limped over to him in great pain, but I didn't show it. He graciously offered me his arm to lean on, and I took it gratefully. We then began, very slowly, to move across the court. Every now and then a great stabbing pain would shoot up my leg, and I would have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. I couldn't altogether mask my face though. Clopin sighed many times, but whether it was a sigh of impatience or one of sympathy I couldn't tell. I assumed it was the former and tried desperately to move faster. But he stopped me suddenly and lifted me up, taking the pressure off my feet, and moved swiftly towards Tante Marie.

"This is just so we can get there within the hour, mind," he told me grimly. I didn't reply, just clung to his neck.

She was waiting for us when we got there, a deliciously spicy odour coming from her cooking pot, her large girth filling the entrance to her tent and her round dark face grinning at us amiably.

"Well now, how romantic the young play!" she said cheerfully, at the sight of Clopin carrying me." What I wouldn't give to be young and in love!!"

Neither Clopin nor I answered, just smiled and nodded to her, and followed her inside.

I was settled down and she fussed around to make sure I was comfortable. I relaxed a little, enjoying the pampering, and doing my best to hold onto Clopin's hand and draw him in with us. But he stubbornly refused, sitting beyond our conversation, thinking his own thoughts, paying us no attention. I looked at him anxiously, wishing he would stop acting so strangely. Tante Marie noticed as well, and gave us both curious gazes as she repeatedly tried to get more than an "uhhmm" or an "mmmm" from him.

Finally she poked him several times and with another dazzling change he was his old self, smiling and joking and eagerly supping on the delicious stew she served up for us. Even I he treated as normal, scooting closer to me and honouring me with a grin. But I saw from his eyes that he was still in the distance somewhere, so I did not enjoy what would otherwise have been a most enjoyable dinner.

When we'd finished I offered to clean the dishes, as was the custom when a guest in someone's home, but she stubbornly refused me, on account of my foot. There was another motive behind it however, as we soon found out. The dishes were placed to one side to wait until after we'd gone, as Tante served us coffee, and that sat eagerly before us, beaming her large smile all over her attractive face.

"Alright now, my children. I have been very patient these last months. How are things going between you then?"

Silence. I glanced at Clopin nervously, but the only perceptible change was a tightening of his smile. He was leaning back on his elbows, relaxing, indifferent. He made a grand gesture with his arm.

"I think you should tell her, love," he said smoothly. "Tell her all about it."

I felt my cheeks flush, and I stared at him, saddened for a moment, before turning to Tante Marie and lying blithely.

"Things are well, Tante. Indeed I'm very glad I have taken your advice. It's been a long time since I was so happy, in fact."

Tante was too delighted to hear Clopin's sarcastic snort to the side. Growing a little angry at him, I continued cheerfully. "I can't recall spending so many days in such idyllic bliss. Everything you said, and more besides, about Clopin is true. I only wish I were more eloquently able to describe how I feel."

She clutched my hand, grinning. "I'm sure he understands just fine, child. Now, how about babies?" Clopin burst out laughing, rather too loudly, I felt.

"No Tante, no babies yet, I'm afraid," he said, snickering. I cut in before he went any further.

"Although we're hoping soon, of course."

She nodded, a trifle disappointed. "I hope so too. I truly do. I look forward to you having your first child."

"Children," I corrected her, as a strange feeling washed over me.

"But of course, there'll be more--"

"No, they will be twins. I think."

She and Clopin both looked at me curiously. I blushed and shrugged. "I don't know. I just had a feeling. They will be twins."

Tante nodded again. "Women often have these feelings. It is nothing unusual. More often than not, they are true as well."

Clopin said nothing, just curled his lip and looked away. I read his expression though - 'how are you going to have children?'- and I grew uncomfortable again.

It wasn't long after that we made our excuses and got up to leave. Clopin went to lift me again, but I pushed him away and embraced Tante tightly. She sighed and leaned back to look at us contentedly.

"Just remember you two - the only reason I'm not married today is because I could never stay friends with my lovers. The way I see it, it's the most important thing of all - to be friends with those you love the dearest. To like them as well as love them."

We didn't look at each other after she closed her tent, although he picked me up forcibly and carried me back. We arrived back at our own tent, and Clopin placed me down on the bed. I had a feeling he planned to go out again, and so I clutched at his sleeve. He stopped and glanced at me before saying calmly, "Let go, please. I want to go out."

"Alright, but listen to me first, please," I said, feeling desperate. I had an idea this might be my only chance to rectify the situation between us. "I have to speak to you, please."

He sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, I'll listen!" He perched on the end of the bed, turned away from me, his face a mask. I put my hands on his shoulders and tried to turn him towards me, but he was like a stone wall, his long lean shoulders immovable.

I could feel tears spring into my eyes and I implored him more humbly than I was given to. "Clopin, look at me. This is very difficult for me. It takes a lot for me to say, so please look at me."

He muttered, "I would think it easier to say with me turned away," but he turned to look at me. I gulped, and fought the fear in my chest.

"You know that isn't my way. But this is so hard. Just give me a moment. Clopin, what I said back in Tante Marie's tent is mostly true. I am happy with you. I... am happy to be with you. I don't know altogether how I feel yet but I know that you've given me a lot more than a great many people in my life, and that I have been more open to you and to your friendship than anyone else. Not even Colombine can get the same response from me. I-" I stumbled, and averted my gaze from him, before continuing. "I'm grateful you're my friend. I don't know how I ever came this far without someone like you - without you - there. I wish I could give back to you what you have given me, but I don't know how. I'm still learning how to. I never wanted to before, but for you I want to. Please, just give me some more time."

I gulped and stopped. I'd put as much of my feelings into words out loud as I could bear to do at that time and I was as yet unsure how I felt. "There, I've finished now, you can laugh if you like." I'd lowered my head and let my hair fall into my eyes, something I'd practically stopped doing. But he didn't laugh. He just pushed the hair out of my eyes, lifted my chin and kissed me. I kissed him back, a little, and when it was finished I fell happily into his arms, and let him hold me, rocking my body comfortingly.

"Thank you," I whispered, clinging to him.

"Any time," he whispered back, with a little laugh. He stroked my hair again and smiled at me.

"Have I ever told you what a gorgeous colour your hair is?" he asked me laughingly, and then drew me close again. "That, by the way, is my way of saying I'm also grateful you're around."

-----

So once again Clopin and I overcame a personal drama of sorts. We didn't mind, there were plenty of dramas to keep us occupied. Firstly, the issue of our being sought after. Then the mystery of how Frollo was getting his information. Clopin decided he wanted to reward little Cosette for tipping us off about the guards, and there was also the matter of how we were going to earn money whilst stuck underground. I was not so worried about this as Clopin, I had my plan that I was working on. At any rate, Clopin's captivity enabled him to do more things around the Court and he garnered his creative frustration into organising the development of new sections, the escape of prisoners, and the decorating of the Court with new painted images and drapes. I fancied I heard a groan arise from the Court every time Clopin bounded in with the words "I have an idea!"

I also had my fears for Chester's health, and I also suffered a brief bout of returning misery over my absent family. I required both Colombine and Clopin to cure me of it.

Colombine was thrilled to hear of my adventure and excited to hear I was a wanted woman. I let her in on my plan and she agreed to help, and we plotted with much delight.

Meanwhile I had been following Abigail's advice and was "looking" at Clopin more closely. It would appear she was right, for every movement I saw, everything he said and did, held a new charm for me. He was such an expressive person and although not everyone could always be sure when he was playing a role and when he was himself, I saw through his pretences quickly. I liked very much what I saw beneath. It wasn't very long - a matter of a few days - that Colombine began to mutter with jealousy and expound the virtues of feminine companionship to other women as opposed to male companionship. I silenced her with a kiss - extremely affectionate of me - and the reassurance she was my dearest female companion, before running off to adoringly follow my handsome, charming husband. We grew closer than ever. But still I debated over the kind of love I held for him.

Gypsies were coming and going within the court quite regularly, for Frollo's persecution of us was swift and vicious. I became aware - through Clopin's own uneasiness - that there was growing tension in the Court.

"Come now, you can't hide anything from me!" I said teasingly to him one evening after he had protested that there was nothing wrong. He laughed and cuddled me.

"That's true. Not that I really want to. You're my little devil, my wicked unicorn, you saucy lass!" I slapped him lightly, and he grabbed my hand and held it tight. "Alright, I'll tell you a little, but there is as yet no cause for alarm, so I will tell you nothing to cause you alarm. Some of the gypsies believe there may be spies among us, or with access to our fellows. We've just been discussing about how to handle the situation. That's all you need to know."

I pouted at him. "I have as much right to know what's going on as you do."

He tweaked my lower lip. "Aww, my poor darling. I only deny you because I know you'd want to get mixed up in it all, and if anything happened to you I really think I'd miss you a little," he told me, his eyes saying more than his mouth did. "Enough talk of business. Are you still worried about that bully tiger of yours?"

I nodded sadly. I had not been getting Chester out half as much as I wanted to, and although he was well fed and scrubbed and brushed every day, he still pined for the outdoors.

"Alright then. I have a surprise for you tomorrow. You'll both enjoy it."

"What is it?" I asked eagerly, clutching at his tunic. He shook his head and pushed me aside.

"Absolutely not will I tell you!" he said firmly. "You'll see in the morning."

-----

The next day I woke up early, and remembered I had been promised a surprise. Clopin woke up shortly after and was pleased to see me up already.

"Good. We have to leave early. Is there any breakfast?"

I fed him, and he washed and dressed quickly. He kissed my forehead. "Get dressed and be waiting with that brute out front of the tent. Pack us some lunch as well. I need to have a word with Jean-Luc before we go. I'll be back shortly."

He left, and I urged Chester to eat quicker. In the meanwhile I washed, and then paused, turning over a thought in my mind, wondering whether I dared it. I decided I did, and got dressed quickly, then pulled my cloak over me, hiding what I wore. I took a basket and packed wine, bread and cheese and cold chicken in my own garlic and chilli sauce, and fruit. I also wrapped up a large cow leg for Chester and put it with the rest.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Chester finished finally, and I brushed and combed him, and then led him to the front of the tent. My foot was still very sore, but I could walk on it more easily now, and with far less assistance. I wondered where we could possibly be going and why Chester would be invited along.

Shortly after Clopin came walking towards us, a huge smile on his face. He even smiled at Chester, who only grunted in return, and then he took my arm and we walked off quickly. Much of the Court was still asleep, and everything was very quiet and peaceful, only a dim light from strategically placed lamps casting a faint glow over our path.

We reached the Centre square and continued on, past the stage (where the gallows had been recently been set up as a deterrent to any spies who might be lurking amongst us) and to the main entrance. I was slightly astonished, realising we would be leaving our underground Haven totally, and then more than a little grateful Clopin carried me through the dirty catacombs. We reached the rough hewn stone steps which would lead the way through the old sarcophagus masking the entrance, and moved up them quickly. Then we were out and in the dark grey of early morning, the sun only just beginning to rise far in the distance.

I saw that Jean-Luc awaited us with a small carriage which Clopin, Chester and I got quickly into, and with a crack of the whip we were off.

I was thrilled that we were evidently travelling somewhere, and leaned out the window, despite Clopin's insistence I stay hidden. I was further thrilled when we left the city and travelled out into the countryside. By now the sun had risen completely, and the spring day was clear and fresh, the countryside blooming with life. Greens and yellows, blues browns and reds tickled my eyeballs, and Chester too could smell the change of atmosphere, and sat up, his tail twitching in anticipation.

Finally, we reached our destination - a sun dappled field with a stream and some nearby woods. Clopin leapt down, and took the basket I offered him, then lifted me down. Chester hesitated at the door of the carriage, but then jumped down joyously, sniffing eagerly at the dirt, and chewing on the grass. Jean-Luc turned to us from the driver's seat.

"You'll be alright here, boss?" he asked Clopin, and Clopin nodded.

"Yes, Jean-Luc. Go and say hello to that pretty sister of yours. And thank you."

Jean-Luc grinned. "No problem. I'll be back this afternoon. Have fun, Herlikin."

"Bye," I said, waving to him, and already turning away I began to follow Chester, running in the fields and shouting with pleasure.

Clopin watched me and laughed, before filling his pipe and settling down beneath a tree, pulling his hat over his eyes. I ran up to him and yanked on his arm.

"Come on now, you can't sit under a tree. Come and run with me."

He shrugged me off. "No. Go play your little child's games. I want to sit here and be lazy." I sighed, then undid my cloak, watching him carefully as I did so. Underneath I wore the two-piece dress he had forbidden me from wearing outside of the tent that day. He raised his hat a little way and his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could say anything I stopped him with:

"There's no-one here about, and I wore my cloak before. You can't complain, so there!"

With that I ran off in joyous pursuit of Chester, who was rolling in the grass. We splashed in the stream a little while and I felt stronger and bigger than I had done before and fancied Chester did too. So it went on for hours, with the two of us enjoying the kind of land we had not felt for many, many months. I could feel Clopin watching me, although whenever I turned towards him it appeared his hat was pulled down. I was conscious of how the dress looked however, showing off my legs as I ran, my bare midriff and shoulders, and the low sweeping neckline, with the lace up back.

Finally he called us over for lunch, and we went reluctantly, for he claimed he wouldn't wait any longer.

Our food seemed to taste better out here in the fresh air beneath the beautiful blue sky, and after lunch I lay next to Clopin lazily, while Chester went to drink from the stream, and find his own tree to lie under and nap.

I was light-hearted from the wine, and feeling very happily affectionate, and far too drowsy to move, so I snuggled up to Clopin and smiled at him broadly. He had stirred barely a muscle all day, content to lie with his pipe and his hat over his face, and lying this way still he asked me "So did you like your surprise?"

I squeezed him tightly. "It's the nicest surprise I have ever been given, I swear it." I kissed his hands rapturously, then cupped his face and kissed his mouth. That woke him up a little and he sat up, pushing his hat back and smiling at me.

"You know, Herli," he said, reaching out a hand to trace the embroidery on my neckline, "it's really a very lovely dress."

I smiled and rearranged myself so I was sitting up also, the dress falling apart to show off a good deal of thigh.

"You really think so?" I asked, pleased. He nodded and leaned closer.

"I do, I truly do. That's why I don't want anyone else to see you in it. Only I should know just how gorgeous you really are."

"Here now, you don't mean that," I said, swatting him.

"I do. I look at you sometimes and think how lucky I am to have such a lovely creature for a wife. Don't blush, it's true."

But I did blush, and smiled at him shyly. I hadn't had a man praise me so lavishly before, and Clopin had a way of making you believe everything he said was God's truth itself. Besides which I had to admit to myself that the man was gorgeous. He reached out a hand and stroked my hair, and I could feel my heart begin to speed up as a slight change came over his face. Acting on a sudden impulse I leaned forward and kissed him affectionately.

When I broke the kiss and moved to lean away he caught me by the waist and held me. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and I felt his hand move up my leg. He watched me carefully, and I knew it was a test to see what I would do. I hesitated, from uncertainty not reluctance, and then put my hand around his waist. He kissed me and I kissed him back, and then we fell into an embrace. As his kisses grew more passionate so did mine, and I flung my arms around him in a wild abandon, seeming even more eager than he did, and we rolled around in the grass beneath the tree. I lost all track of time, but as my confidence grew my hands roamed, and so did his. When he moved on top of me I happily wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him down closer. He'd pulled the top half of my dress down a little way and the lower part had been pushed aside at the split, but we were both still fully dressed, and I was very glad for it a moment later when Jean-Luc stumbled upon us. We were both startled by him, and Clopin not a little angry.

"Whoops," Jean-Luc said, blushing, eyes darting from side to side. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise - "

"Damnit, Jean-Luc!!" Clopin snapped. "What do you mean by arriving now??"

"Sorry boss," he said, embarrassed. "But we have to get back before dark, remember? I didn't know or I would have waited." He'd turned away from us, and I pushed Clopin up hastily, and rearranged my dress to his facial protestations. I silenced anything he was about to say with a finger pressed to his lips and whispered "Tonight" to him.

"To hell with tonight," he replied, "try as soon as we get back!"

I laughed, breathless and thrilled. "If not, in the back of the carriage."

His eyes lit up "Say now there's an idea!" and I squealed and whacked him. "No. Absolutely not. Chester!" I called to my beastly friend, who joined us reluctantly. "We'll come back here, my friend" I promised him. And with that we made our way back to Paris.

-----

We arrived as the sun was setting and made our way through Madame Paquette's tavern, there being too many people about for us to safely go through the graveyard. We kept our cloaks wound tightly around us and rushed Chester through quickly. It was still too early for the tavern to be very full, and those who were there paid us no mind, at least it seemed they did not, and I hoped it were so. Although tired from our day out, there had been a lot of kissing and cuddling in the carriage (much to Chester's disgust) and both Clopin and myself were very much looking forward to getting back to our tent.

We hurried through the Court, just barely greeting those we passed, and we were both very much annoyed when a white-faced Colombine stopped us both. My annoyance changed to concern when I saw the grim expression on her face and I asked her anxiously what was wrong. She squeezed my hand tight but did not answer me. Instead she said to Clopin, "Some gypsies arrived here from the countryside today."

Clopin shrugged. "So? That happens all the time. I'll see them in the morning Right now I'm busy." Grabbing hold of me he moved to go, but she pulled him back.

"Clopin, I really think you should come and see. You may not want a few of these particular gypsies to stay. Herli should see too. You should make this decision together."

Clopin kept shaking his head. "No, Colombs. They can wait until the morning. I don't see why I shouldn't want them to stay here. Just go and tell them the King is busy making heirs."

Colombine glanced at me in interest with that remark, but she didn't loosen her hold on him.

"Clopin, this is important!" she insisted. "And I for one think there's one who should be booted entirely out of Europe. Now come ON."

Using all her strength she dragged both me and Clopin to the Court Centre, where I could see the new gypsies chatting with others of the Court. I had not seen these people before, but they were clearly known here, and Clopin obviously knew them also, for he smiled and greeted heartily many of the men, winking at the few women who pretending to scold him. Finally he turned to Colombine and frowned at her.

"Well? Who's the terrible evil one who doesn't belong in Europe? I see no such here - in fact - " he continued on complaining good-naturedly to Colombine, who tried helplessly to interrupt at intervals, and while he was talking I saw a strange woman move from one of the tents and into the centre.

She was clearly one of the new gypsies. Quite tall, she was extraordinarily curvy, with large breasts and hips. Her skin was very dark but her hair was a deep chestnut brown, not black. It was curly and fell halfway down her back. Her eyes were a deep blue, her mouth full and seductive, her eyebrows very dark and arched sharply. Despite her great beauty, there was something sly on her face, a cunning in her eyes I did not like. She was older than us, about thirty by my reckoning, and elaborately dressed in rich fabrics, and even more jewellery than I wore. I quick glance at it told me a good deal of it was made with expensive stuff - gold and real jewels, and I looked at her with a renewed interest - how did she get her hands on that? She walked slowly towards us, a large smug smile breaking across her exquisite features. She stopped in front of us, and put her hand on her hips.

"Hello Clopin," she said in a soft, rich voice.

Clopin started at the sound of it, and turned to look at her, his eyes wide in astonishment, his mouth dropping open, his shoulders sagging in his shock. Colombine meanwhile, looked at her in open dislike, and then at me and Clopin in dismay.

"Isabelle!" Clopin said softly, his voice hoarse with surprise.

At the sound of that I shot an alarmed glance at the woman, everything suddenly becoming clear. So this was the woman who'd left my husband with a broken heart some two months before. Here she was, back in the Court, looking very pleased with herself, whilst Clopin stood helplessly at my side, gazing at her, a variety of emotions flickering on his face. She spoke again.

"I'm back darling. Aren't you going to say hello?"

-----

A short while later we were all sitting in the Centre, the new gypsies whole-heartedly being welcomed and fed happily as old acquaintances were renewed. Clopin had managed to break his silence and greet Isabelle in a civil fashion and she'd embraced him fiercely, drawing him close to her. I had been irritated by the sight of it, more so that he did not protest, and even after a moment put his arms around her, hugging her back.

"You remember Colombine of course?" he said, making a gesture towards her.

"Humph," Colombine had said, and stormed away. Isabelle had been undeterred and had moved slyly towards me, exclaiming that I must be Clopin's bride and wasn't a pretty child. I could feel my face growing cold and hard with every word, and my body remained stiff when she had placed her hands familiarly on my shoulders.

But Clopin did not do as Colombine had evidently wanted him to - he did not ask Isabelle to leave, nor did he treat her coldly. Instead, he'd invited her to sit with us and to eat, she must be tired from her journey. All the while he looked at her in a kind of dazed wonderment, as I grew increasingly short-tempered.

In the meanwhile, she laughed and flashed her teeth, pretty white ones, and I grew jealous although mine were just as good. It was her sparkle, the easy confidence and sensuality she conducted herself with that got to me, and the obvious way Clopin enjoyed it. It was only a small satisfaction that I noticed many of the Romani looking askance at her, some with open hostility, others with annoyance. It was only a couple of the nastiest girls in the Court who appeared happy to see her. She was indifferent to it all, expressing interest only in Clopin. To begin with she had feigned some in me, asking me about my life, my interests, how I occupied myself, etc., etc., but my short, indifferent answers finally deterred her, and after a while addressed her enquiries to my husband only. As the night wore on, musical instruments were picked up, singing commenced and with it dancing, and gradually Clopin and Isabelle were talking only with each other, having closed off everyone else entirely. I was extremely put out by this and contemplated going back to the tent alone when Colombine sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry, Herli. I really thought he'd react a little differently."

I shrugged. "It's all right. You weren't to know. Let's just hope the roof caves in on them both."

She laughed a little and then hugged me. "And you were doing so well with him too! But don't worry! Don't take my words the wrong way. He's not exactly happy to see her, he's more curious than anything else."

"Could've fooled me," I said wryly.

"Trust me, please. He won't just fall back into her arms. Try not to stress too much. Just for god's sakes, don't leave him alone with her! She'll manage to always be in your way, so you make sure you're always in hers!!"

"I'm not sure it's worth the effort" I said, gesturing towards the two. She scowled to look at them, and we must have been a pretty pair, the both of us scowling and grimacing.

"It is," she told me. "Don't give her the opportunity to wriggle back into his affections. Not only is it against fate, he'll be miserable. You don't want that handsome husband of yours to be miserable do you?"

"No," I said, choking back tears.

"Just play the game her way. She doesn't have many friends here. And you're closer to him than she ever was."

I squeezed her hand, and stood up proudly. I had been forced to keep my cloak wrapped around me, considering what I was wearing underneath, although I had to wonder bitterly if Clopin would even notice were I to take it off. I walked towards them and past them, and masked a sigh of relief when Clopin asked where I was going. At least he was still aware I existed.

"I'm going back to the tent," I told him. "My foot is aching badly. Besides which, I'm tired. Are you coming?"

He hesitated, indecision written on his face. Isabelle glanced at me sharply, and then laid an imploring hand on his.

"Aw, Clopie, darling. I wanted so much to catch up with you and all you've been doing."

He paused again and turned to me. "I'll only be a few minutes more."

I shrugged, trying to hide my hurt, as my heart beat painfully inside me. "Fine, you've made your decision," I said calmly, and I turned and walked to our tent, pretending not to hear him when he called out, "Herli!"

Once back, I undressed angrily, and then crawled into bed. He came in hardly five minutes after, evidently feeling guilty from what had just transpired, but I feigned sleep and did not answer when he asked if I was awake. He got in beside me and my tears finally fell when he did not put his arms around me.

-----

The next few days were spent helping our newcomers to settle in, and Clopin did his best, although it was clear he was distracted. That did nothing to improve my mood, and I had to try many times to not snap sharply at him, mindful of what Colombine had said about keeping his affections with me. Colombine had been right - Isabelle always found a way to be in our presence. She flirted dangerously with Clopin, not even trying to hide it, but not going so far I could say anything about it. She was a dangerous woman, a loner, with only a few friends she milked for all they were worth. It was beyond me why Clopin had ever fallen in love with her, but she could be extremely seductive when she wanted to be. The first time I saw her dance I wondered how she had not been banned from the streets - she was a whirling, gyrating frenzy of sexuality, and there wasn't a man in the Court who didn't stop what he was doing to gape at her - my husband included.

Because she was Romani the others did not make an outcast of her - she did that herself. They would not openly reject her, but she cared not for them anyway. She liked being alone, using people as it suited her. I believe Clopin knew this - but he was still young, and she very persuasive.

I watched the two of them together very closely. I fancied, though it may have been wishful thinking, that he did not seem as though he actually wanted to be with her - it was more a reluctance to offend her that made him follow her and help set up her tent, help move her possessions in, and anything else she wanted him to do. It was as though she'd cast a spell over him, though by all accounts she had no involvement in witchcraft, a spell of passion that made him want her always to be happy. He did not seem to enjoy her company, or her conversation, although he always paid close attention to it.

But as a result of this spell or whatever it was, our conversation suffered. Our relationship suffered. He tried hard to pay me the same attention he had done before, but I could see he was confused, and it hurt me terribly. I played Isabelle's "game", frequently just happening to be in the same place they were, or needing to visit Christophe or Jean-Luc or whoever it was she used as an excuse to drag Clopin along and get him away from me, and so would accompany them on the trip, Clopin giving me a look of relief, and she fuming to herself. I masked any anger or resentment I felt as best I could, although inside I boiled over with rage every time she brushed his cheek or caressed his arm, smiling her large feline smile. She was in a fine temper when she found out Clopin was confined underground for awhile, and couldn't accompany her when she wished to visit the city. I had a great satisfaction of slipping in slyly:

"Isabelle, my face is not so well known on the streets, I would be quite happy to accompany you wherever you wish to go," and she'd sneer at me viciously.

Within two days of her arriving Clopin was stuck in a terrible game of tug-of-war between us. If she needed help moving her table, then I needed help moving our bed. If she had a headache, then I had a bellyache. Likewise, if I wanted Clopin to fetch me some fresh fruit, then she wanted him to get her some meat. If I wanted Clopin to hold my arm as we talked with the others in the Centre, then she wanted to dance with him. In the beginning he was reluctant to disappoint either of us, and his face held an almost permanent expression of confusion and indecision. But quickly he began to duck masterfully out of our way, if he was with one of us and saw the other coming, he'd make his excuses and dart away. I didn't mind. So long as she wasn't getting her claws stuck into him and he came home to bed every night I was fine with that. I was rather less fine about the exercise we had begun in the fields that day being abandoned. Clopin and I still spent the night sleeping, and not much else.

But I did get praise from Tante Marie for the battle I was putting up, and several other of the previously unfriendly women began putting their heads in and doing the same. It seemed they much preferred me to be with Clopin as opposed to Isabelle, whom they called the ever-hungry cat.

But I was quickly losing heart. Clopin may not have even really wanted to be near her, but he no longer seemed to want to be with me either. It was as though he were on auto-pilot, and he spent as much time as he could busying himself with the affairs of his people, and he spent nearly a solid week in the Court Centre, organising a massive re-arrangement. His brilliant new scheme was to make the Court more self-sufficient. Gypsy traders who were spending in the Court for the summer were offered a permanent place. Clopin wanted a bakery, a butcher (Christophe of course), and Bethan agreed to become the Court's cloth trader and provider of linen as well as getting a few of the girls to assist her and create a laundry of sorts. That week Clopin procured the permanent services of a wondering gypsy physician and doctor who also decided it would be fun to take up dentistry. They were miscellaneous stores as well - curiosities, jewellery and the like. Caravans were brought down and recreated to serve as these stores. We could pay with money, or trade with services or goods. Two tents were joined to create a larger "bath house", and he even had some of the men tap a spring and dig out a small stream for us to use. He insisted we all move our tents back further and so widen the Court Centre, so it was now more of a square. The stores were set up here, framing the square, and looked very raggle-taggle and bizarre, the brightly painted caravans and the strange goods they sold, the gypsies frequently leaving their stores as the fancy took them, fights breaking out, and huge encampments in the Square of an evening when the merry-making commenced. Children played in the square, and the stage was set up as a permanent gallows. Clopin found his mockery of the city of Paris very amusing and was proud of his work. But as I said, I was rapidly losing heart. I hardly saw him now, and Isabelle and I were just barely remaining civil to one another.

I bemoaned the situation to Colombine, demanding she tell me everything of Clopin and Isabelle's past. We were sitting in her tent, she on her chair, sewing patches on one of her costumes, I on the cushions, working on my plan. She shrugged, raising an eyebrow.

"It was messy, let's say that. I guess you've realised what she's like - a loner, she travels around, causing trouble. She came back last year for the first time since she was twenty, and thought Clopin was handsome, sweet - and very powerful within the Court. He of course, didn't really know anything about her. She keeps to herself and only really joins up with us when she wants something, so it was easy for her to seduce him. She just put on a sweet and sensual front, and he was hooked."

I grimaced. "It was as easy as that?"

"Yes - back then. It wasn't long before she was practically running the place. Badly. Clopin wouldn't listen to anyone. He was madly and passionately in love with her. She aroused him like he's never been before, and he wasn't thinking with his brains. If someone said something bad about her, all doubt would vanish with one moist look from those blue eyes, and a few hurt - or hurtful - words, and he'd be right back in her arms again.

"But Isabelle isn't exactly known for her chastity, and gradually his passion began to ease, so frequently was it gratified. Isabelle is not a woman who can inspire lasting passion with her personality - she relies purely on her looks. In fact, it's a rare woman indeed who can keep a man's heart forever with looks alone. It doesn't matter how beautiful you are, if you haven't got something behind it, than anyone's passion will begin to wane. A gypsy man lusts after beautiful women, he does not actively seek them as companions, unlike the gadjes who look mainly for a show or functional wife. The reason so many gypsy marriages are disgustingly blissful is because it's based on more than being attracted to someone's looks. It's why the old men and women around here are still sneaking off to indulge in their wicked passions.

"And Clopin likes a woman he can talk to, whom he can be friends with. He can't do that with Isabelle, which he began to realise when she could no longer smooth away any enquiries by wrapping her legs around his waist. Gradually he began to see what kind of a person she really was, although I think he was still physically attracted to her. But he couldn't find a way to break free of her. She is so insistent, and so demanding, and clearly she hadn't got everything she wanted out of him yet. And then even his physical attraction to her ceased as her cruelty and manipulation continued. But he still thought he was in love with her. He wasn't - but he tried to believe there was something there he could love.

"When he told her about you, she practically hit the roof and went right through it. She began to demand he stop it. That he come with her. He wouldn't, claiming it would dishonour his father, and she realised she no longer had a hold on him. So she made his life hell. I think, out of memory of his old affection for her, he tried to be patient, tried to soothe her, but she wouldn't have it. Finally she informed him she was leaving and demanded that he help her go. And he felt heartbroken. Then you arrived. That, my dear, is the whole story."

I sat quietly when she finished, thinking deeply.

"You think he still has some feelings for her? I think he does - or he's confused."

She shook her head. "He doesn't love her. She may still be able to stir some desire in him, but she does that to all the men. You could inspire far more and much longer lasting passion in him. You have all the right ingredients for Clopin Trouillefou. I think - yes, I think he may be a little confused, because he's being assaulted with memories of how he felt. She probably still smells good to him and he's not sure how to reconcile it with his feelings for you. That's why he's doing such a brilliant job of avoiding you both," she added with a laugh.

I tried to smile, but found I couldn't.

"Don't give in. She's very bad news. She likes to make a mistress of herself to old wealthy men. That's where she gets all her pretty things from. And god knows how many illegitimate children she's had and abandoned. Clopin may be confused now, but you keep making him compare you to her, and he wont be any longer. She won't even have an effect on his loins soon enough."

"I don't know, Colombs," I leaned my head on her knee, and pulled a sad face. "He just seems so distracted. I don't know how to reach him anymore."

She pinched my nose. "Don't worry about him for the moment. Just keep working on deterring her."

I felt a great wave of emotion rush through me. Since Isabelle's arrival I had become aware of a few feelings I would rather not have the distress of dealing with. They'd snuck up on me unexpectedly, and unused to such strong emotion, I hadn't dealt with it well. It had all been building up to a breaking point, and this was it. Suddenly hysterical, I burst into tears and clung to my friend's knee.

"Good Lord! What's all this about?" she exclaimed, hugging me.

"Colombine, I do love him," I sobbed. "I thought I didn't, but I do now. Why do I have to love him now? I love him so much it hurts. I just want him to be with me, and it hurts so much when I think of the two of them. I can't even tell him how I feel, he doesn't listen to me anymore."

"Shhh," she said. "It'll be alright. But you have to keep fighting. Don't you think he's worth the effort?"

"Yes" I said tearfully. "But am I?"

"Of course you are. He'd kill anyone who tried it on with you. Now look, dry your eyes, go back to your tent and fight for your man" she squeezed my shoulders tight and wiped away my tears. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and collecting up my fabrics and thread, walked sedately back to my home.

Once there I allowed myself to think as I cooked dinner. I thought over all of Isabelle's flirtations and snide remarks with a cool indifference, allowing it to hurt my pride more than my feelings, and with that attitude I calmed down further and was better equipped to deal with her.

I finished cooking dinner and scrubbed the greasy pans. As I approached the end of this task I heard Clopin's low sweet voice, and the higher, rich one of that "ever-hungry cat". I stopped what I was doing and listened carefully. Isabelle laughed softly.

"Oh Clopie. You're the same as always, so handsome, so charming. It's no wonder no woman can resist falling in love with you."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_The author would like to advise that there is some sexual content in this chapter and having given adequate warning, absolves herself from any blame in the corruption of innocent young minds_

"Well - maybe - " Clopin said, flustered. Clopin? Lost for words? This woman worked some trickery that was for sure.

"I still can't believe you managed to tie yourself down to one woman. I never would have thought you could."

I could imagine Clopin shrugging. "We can all surprise ourselves, mademoiselle."

"Silly. You know you can call me by my name. I think we have shared enough intimate moments for that liberty, don't you?" I knew by now she had probably draped herself all over him, and my temper began to rise. But I held it in check, and continued to listen, holding the tub of dirty water in my hands. "Although how you put up with that drab little creature is beyond me. She's very pretty, but so dull! I can hardly get two words out of her."

"Well, she's not really like that," Clopin said haltingly. "I'm not sure what's wrong with her but - "

"Oh Clopie, you don't have to defend her to me. I know you'd rather not be married to her, but what can we do? It doesn't matter. If she bores you, you can always seek entertainment elsewhere," she finished, her voice sly and mocking. I, however, had had enough. I strode to the tent flap, flung it open, and tossed the dirty water out all over her, soaking her head to toe. She was too astonished to react for a moment, and then she gave a shriek of outrage. I meanwhile, feigned horror and contrition.

"Oh Isabelle! I am so ever sorry!! I had no idea you were out here! What, is that dress silk? Oh it's too terrible! I feel simply awful!" She was a sad sight now and I was enjoying myself.

She sputtered angrily, and Clopin looked in bewilderment from me to her, and reached out a feeble hand to offer assistance.

"Now Clopin," I said, shoving him towards the tent. "Go inside and let me help Isabelle. I'm sure she doesn't want you to see her in such a bedraggled state."

Isabelle found her voice. "Clopin! She deliberately soaked me!! Are you going to allow that?!?!"

I looked innocently at Clopin who glanced at me suspiciously before saying, "I'm sure it was an accident, Isabelle. Herli wouldn't do something like that. I'm sure."

Isabelle gave an outraged cry, and stared at me with murderous eyes. I refused to be intimidated, however, and again offered assistance. She slapped my hands away in fury.

"I want nothing of yours, that's for sure!" she seethed before storming away. Several had witnessed the incident and she was followed by many titters and whispered comments. Clopin turned to me with his arms crossed.

"Did you do that on purpose, Herli?" he asked me crossly.

I widened my eyes. "Clopin. Please. Like I would ever do such a terrible thing?" I grinned at him and went inside. He laughed a little, and followed me for his supper.

-----

I was very fond of that trick, and found a great many ways to do it afterwards. Once, we were down by the Court's stream, and she began singing a very provocative song about a man who betrayed his wife for his lover, when Clopin passed by. Taking up an enormous bundle of soaking wet linen, I passed by her, and "accidentally" drooped a great heap of it on her head, ruining her carefully-arranged hair, and soaking the back of her dress. The others laughed, and she again was given to only a few infuriated sputters while I apologised profusely. Another time I tripped a girl carrying a bucket of water while Isabelle danced for Clopin nearby, and the thin fabric was soaked and clung to her skin, revealing more than even she cared to show the general public. She glared around, her eyes flashing, but I only looked at her innocently. I had not been carrying the bucket, she could not blame me. My favourite was when she slipped over in the sludge in the Catacombs. It was my favourite because I truly had nothing to do with it. She had asked Clopin's assistance through it, and he had obligingly reached to do so, but before he could, she slipped and covered herself. I laughed heartily before apologising for my mirth. I could see even Clopin was amused by her continual bad luck, although he tried to hide it. But it seemed to not deter her. In a way it made her even more determined to get attention from him, she just was more careful I wasn't around when she sought it. Because I tried to stay by his side as much as possible, she found that a rather difficult task though. At any rate I had begun to enjoy the battle, and I doubted she did, which only cheered me more.

I think Clopin also realised why I was tormenting her so, for we managed to share some of our old camaraderie, he no longer avoided me, and I could feel I was winning him back.

So we sat one evening in what was now the Court Square, with the others, drinking cheerfully and joking with each other, and exchanging small, happy looks between us. I was very cheerful that night, and so very glad to be sitting with the man I now wholeheartedly confessed to myself that I loved. I made the mistake of leaning over to Colombine to share a whispered joke, and when I turned back Isabelle had managed to insert herself between us. She hugged Clopin, appearing herself to be in a glorious mood.

"Good evening, Clopie, you're looking magnificent as always."

"Hello Isabelle. You look fine yourself," he replied courteously, although I could clearly see indifference, and even weariness, written on his face. She laughed and wedged herself between us further.

"Darling, I was thinking that tomorrow you should let me cook you dinner. You're so terribly thin, you look as though you never get fed enough. Remember how much you used to love my meals? Remember how you used to love to eat what I gave you?"

I raised an eyebrow for her implication was clear, and while Clopin fumbled over a way of either refusing without insulting her, or accepting without insulting me, I took a sip of my wine and made a face.

"Bah, this wine is terrible!" I cried, and tossed it to the side, right into her face. All eyes were on us as she gasped, and blinked, and I again made a face of consternation.

"Isabelle! I was not aware you were there! I'm so sorry!"

Clopin got hurriedly to his feet.

"Er, excuse me ladies, I have to go trim my goatee." He moved quickly away, but I paid him no mind. I just gazed calmly into Isabelle's outraged face, meeting her eyes. She began to hiss at me.

"The hell you're sorry!! I know you do it deliberately!"

"Do what?" I asked innocently, and to my surprise she gave me a hard shove.

"I'm sick of you constantly soaking me whenever I pass you!!! I won't stand it any longer, you spoilt little bitch. Either you defend your husband like a real woman or you let him go to the one he really wants."

She had my temper up now. "Oh? Well the hell he wants you, if that's what you think!! You're nothing but an old woman trying desperately to cling to her youth. Clopin laughs at you, do you hear me? He laughs!" My voice had risen to a shout, and we were both standing, facing one another challengingly. A group of the nearby Romani applauded this little speech, to her outrage. She raised her hands, as though to attack me, but suddenly her formerly sly expression returned and she leaned closer towards me and said softly:

"A woman like you can't keep him satisfied, you pathetic little virgin. I know all about it, you see? He may not want me now, but he will, you can mark my words on that. And all you need to do is continue being yourself. You'll drive him to me. Only I know what he really needs. You're not even a woman. You're just a little child."

My fury reached its breaking point. The Romani who'd gathered around us watched eagerly, and I was sure some of them must've heard her. In a sudden rage I leapt on her with an angry cry. A cheer went up from those around us as she fought back. I scratched and bit and punched and kicked and she did the same, and we threw each other around, both of us screaming bloody murder, while the others watched us in excitement. But Clopin must not have gone very far, for I heard his voice above the din suddenly, demanding some assistance, and Isabelle and I were wrenched apart, and held back although we both struggled to fly at each other again. I was aching in several places, and had taken a bad punch in the eye, but I saw with great satisfaction that her nose was bleeding, her clothes torn, and I'd pulled a great handful of her hair out which I let drop to the floor. She screeched and spat at me, and in another fit of bestial excitement, I struggled with those who held me back to fly at her again. But the man who held me was stronger and whirled me around to face him, shaking me violently. It was Clopin.

"Control yourself, damn it!" he yelled at me.

"Let me go!" I cried, struggling with him. "She started it!"

"Calm down!" he roared, and continued shaking me until I stopped struggling, and my teeth seemed to rattle in my head. "Now go back to the tent! Now!" and he pushed me so hard I fell and skidded a little way. His face was immediately sorry, and he moved towards me, but I struggled quickly to my feet and backed off.

"Herli, sweetheart - " he began, but I just ran back to the tent, my heart racing still from the fight.

When I got there, I paused, panting, trying to get a hold of myself. I tasted blood in my mouth and realised Isabelle must of got a few good ones in. I paced up and down still, my agitation so great that I cried a little. A few seconds later the flap was pulled aside and Clopin entered, no longer looking angry.

"Herli, ma petite, come here," he said apologetically, reaching out for me, but I moved quickly to one side, wringing my hands. "I'm sorry I pushed you," he continued. "Please come here."

His look was so beseeching and his voice so sorry that I wanted nothing more than to leap into his arms right then, but I wanted to play for a little more coddling, so I pouted and sulked. "You hurt me," I said accusingly.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"You shook me so hard my head nearly fell off!" I exclaimed, sticking my lip out further. He looked at me and caught on to what I was doing. Playing along he sat in the big cushioned chair and mimicked my pout, holding out his arms.

"Well, you'd better come here so Papa Clopin can make sure it's still on."

I needed no further encouragement and let him pull me onto his lap, cuddling me close.

"I need a lot of attention, because I'm very badly hurt," I told him petulantly.

"Is that so?" he asked me. "You need me to rub your poor little neck?"

"Yes, I think I need that," I agreed, and smiled happily when he obliged me.

"So here now, little one. Show me all your cuts and bruises."

I pointed to each place that was sore, and he kissed each gently, first the corner of my mouth, then my eye, my neck, my arms, even a bruised finger. I motioned to my stomach where I'd sustained a vicious kick and he watched me as he leaned down and kissed it. I didn't want it to stop there and motioned to a spot between my breasts. He leaned down and kissed me and then raised his head to look in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss and I could feel him growing more and more aroused, as I took off his hat and ran my fingers through his hair. Finally he stood up, lifting me with him and took me over to the bed.

We lay down and kissed a while more, allowing our hands to move over each other, and my passion grew as quickly as his did. I tugged at his tunic and was glad when he got the hint and took it off. I ran my hands over his chest and then pulled him down close to me again. We kissed some more and then he pulled me up so we sat facing one another, and he began to untie my bodice. I moved to help him, though I began to blush at the thought of finally being naked with him. My breath caught when he pulled it off and then he helped me out of my dress. I was now only in a thin cotton chemise and my sandals, thrilled from head to foot. He pushed me back on the bed gently, and one by one took my feet in his hands, kissing them lovingly as he pulled my sandals off. He stretched himself out over me again and we resumed our lovemaking until I tingled all over and wished to god he'd take my chemise off.

He heard my wish, evidently, for he sat up again and smiling at me, helped take off this last barrier between our flesh. I blushed again, and felt not a little anxiety, but I saw only appreciation and desire in his eyes as he looked me all over. My heart was racing, as I'd never been in such a situation before, but I didn't want to stop, and was glad when he began to make love to my body, doing things that made me moan with delight. I kissed him greedily when he brought his head up to mine again, and then he finally removed his hose. I wasn't shy of looking at him anymore, and indeed, looked in wonderment. I let him guide my hand, but was thankful he asked for nothing more, for I hardly knew what to do, letting myself move mainly on instinct than anything else.

He sat up, sweating and laughing then, and fearing I had done something wrong I anxiously asked him what. In answer he raised his hands above his head and exclaimed "At last!!" and relieved, I smiled up at him and then wrapped my legs around him as he leant down again. He moved up me then and I tensed.

"Try to relax," he whispered, kissing me and rubbing my hair. I did, and he moved again, there was pain and he was inside of me.

The lead-up had been exquisite, the next part was considerably less so. I gulped and tried to relax again. Despite my arousal, I was small and he was large and it hurt me as he moved inside of me, and I cried a little, but still did not want him to stop. He kissed my tears soothingly and embraced me lovingly, and then we carried the act out until he climaxed. Despite the months of abstinence, and the level of his passion, he lasted a good while, but my body grew only a little used to it by the end.

Afterwards he held me very close, cuddling me and whispering to me softly. I held him just as tight, and wished very much I could tell him how I felt. But for the moment was grateful we'd finally consummated the marriage.

Not long after, he was ready for me again, and I willingly opened my arms to him. And again the lead-up was wonderful, but I still felt pain when it came to the final part. As the night wore on and we made love again and again I gradually became used to it, and even began to enjoy the rhythm and the feel of it. He taught me a good many things that night, and I wanted to stop perhaps even less than what he did. He was glad to find me so insatiable, and enjoyed bringing me pleasure. I recalled Colombine telling me of her own experiences, and of a idea Romani men had which made them very different from all others - the idea that your sexual prowess was obviously greater if you could make a woman scream in ecstasy, and they all prided themselves on being able to do that, and even worked hard towards it. So the night I lost my virginity was a very pleasurable experience, unlike what it might've been had I not been a gypsy girl.

I could hear people stirring outside as we finished once more, and I realised that it was dawn. I was by now, exhausted, and turned contentedly into his arms as he rolled off me. Sweat-drenched and thoroughly satisfied, we happily lay together and listened to those moving outside. After that it wasn't long before I fell asleep.

-----

When I awoke he was smiling down at me, stroking my hair. I smiled back and stretched, pulling his head down for a kiss.

"How do you feel?" I asked him.

"I feel fantastic," he replied, and he looked better than he had in a while. "How about you?"

"Mmm... Much the same. As you that is. Do I have to get up?"

"Yes, you do, my love." He stood up and I saw he was fully dressed. "I've been up for ages."

"Rubbish, I don't believe you!" I laughed, and rolled over, lifting the covers to look at the sheets. There was blood on them and I sighed. "Dang... Oh well, it was worth it."

He looked mightily pleased at that, and I felt a surge of love for him. Again I wished I could tell him, but I swallowed and said nothing. He held up my robe and waved it tantalisingly towards me.

"You'd better come and get your robe..." he said.

"I'm not walking over to you naked!" I retorted, and he laughed.

"Last night you couldn't wait to get naked. Come on now, you have to get up."

"I'll get up alright!" I muttered, and wrapped a sheet around me, laughing at him triumphantly. I swung my legs over the side, and stood up, then gasped in pain. I took a few steps and gasped again. My inner thighs hurt, my lower back hurt and my hips hurt. Clopin looked at me sympathetically.

"Oh yes... You're going to be quite sore for the next day or so, cherie."

"Thanks a lot," I grumbled. I hobbled over to him, and then let the sheets drop. His eyes widened, and he looked at me hungrily, reaching for my waist, but I batted his hands away and snatched my robe back.

"Not now, not with the pain I'm in, you brute."

He shrugged. "Every virgin woman has to go through that the first time, and sometimes for several times after. You'll get used to it."

He pulled me towards him then and we kissed passionately. And if I couldn't say it to him, then I put as much love into my kisses as I could.

-----

After that we couldn't get enough of each other. We took every opportunity we could, and I learned quickly, taking as much pleasure in it as he did. My body became accustomed to the act and the pain faded away. Isabelle, too, faded away. She seemed paltry, insignificant. She knew it too, and was furious. But what she could do? Clopin's now fearlessly cold attitude told her he would take no more of her rubbish, and defeated, she backed down, although I noticed her and her only two friends still caused as much trouble as they could, if they possibly could.

I worried only a short while our new intimacy would ruin our friendship, and was relieved to find it not so. If anything we shared a deeper friendship than before, and I trusted him totally and without fear. I understood more now what Colombine had said about long-lasting passion being inspired by more than beauty.

But, curiously, although I did trust him so, I barely showed it, preferring to keep it to myself. I suppose, at the time, some of my old caution remained yet. My love was a precious secret I guarded to myself, refusing to talk to even Colombine about it, although she pressed me always.

Now that the anxieties of my personal life seemed to be sorted out once and for all, I returned whole-heartedly to my plan. I required more fabric - black and white, and wanted it to be of the same type as the beautiful red velvet I so adored. I was stuck at an idea of how to obtain it however, until I heard along the grapevine that little Cosette's mother (whom she lived with) was a serving maid to one of the wealthy upper-class. That very day Colombine and I snuck out of the Court and cornered poor Cosette in one of the backrooms of the tavern, begging her assistance. Her eyes grew rounder and rounder as we told her what we wanted, and she flushed red all over.

"Lord, I couldn't do that" she nearly wept. "What if I were caught??"

"You won't be caught!" I said, a trifle impatiently. "And just think what fun we'll have."

She looked at me doubtfully. "It doesn't sound very fun to me."

I sighed. "Of course it is. Isn't it, Colombs?"

"Oh absolutely!" she agreed, and we resumed our pleading, pressuring her until the little thing finally agreed.

The next day she met us in the backroom, having crept surreptitiously in with the large bundle under her arms. Her face was flustered and scared and she handed it over with a gulp.

"Here you are. Lord, it's one of the Madame's best. Just promise it won't be ruined."

I leapt on the package with a gleeful whoop and grinned a toothy grin at the older girl who seemed so much younger than me.

"I promise, Cosette, it shall be returned in the exact condition it was delivered in. Now, when's your day off?"

"The day after next, but - I don't see - "

"Perfect. You're coming with us, aren't you?"

She turned white with fear. "Oh no no, I couldn't!! I couldn't!! What if someone saw me? What if we were caught??"

"We won't be caught, Cosette!" Colombine and I declared wearily. "Anyway, you have to come with me, ladies always have two serving maids, isn't that so?"

"Yes, I believe it is," Colombine said confidently, before our little lamb could say a word. She still looked doubtful, but I kept insisting.

"Come on, there darling, I am a queen you know, and Clopin loves it when I'm happy. He loves people who make me happy."

She hesitated only a moment longer and then agreed. "Alright. But if anything goes wrong, please say I didn't give you that dress!"

I sniffed. "As if we would, pet. Alright, here's what we're going to do!!"

-----

The day after next Cosette joined Colombine and I in the Court. She was trusted there and allowed to visit, although she seldom did. The tavern was scandalising enough for her, she found the Court positively nerve wracking. The three of us got ready. I was dressed in a very fine and expensive day gown, belonging to the wealthy lady Cosette's mother served. It was white with a pretty red floral pattern, and I praised Cosette her choice. We worked hard at it, arranging it prettily, so the pale red petticoats fell prettily beneath it. We pulled my stubborn voluminous hair up as best we could, and hid it with a beautiful silk bonnet. My face was lightly powdered ,and Cosette had further obliged us by bringing accessories - lace gloves, a fan, pretty slippers and silk stockings. She had stubbornly refused to bring any jewellery, and insisted that we give her the dress back that very afternoon. my neck, wrists and ears felt naked without my jewellery, but I put a brave face on it and helped my two friends prepare themselves. They were dressed in clean white smocks, with pretty and plain blue cotton dresses underneath, white caps on their heads.

Finally we were ready, and we admired ourselves, Cosette catching a little of our mood and daring to smile. I picked up several purses filled with crudely-formed brass coins, and we were ready to go. Sneaking out of the Court with no-one noticing us was difficult, and I remain unsure exactly how we accompanied it. Then we had to hurry quickly down the streets, for it was not common for gentlewomen to walk in that area alone. I had caught the giggles by the time we arrived in the better part of town and Colombine nudged me although I could tell by her face she was trying not to laugh as well. Cosette continued to look incredibly anxious, and so finally I got hold of myself and began playacting my part, ordering her to stop looking like a silly ninny. I told Colombine to stop misbehaving and she was about to retort when she realised it was a part of the game. I began a sedate walk, by head thrown back, my back straight, and my friends scurried obediently after me. We must have made a good impression, for the people moved aside for us on the street, and gentleman tipped their hats - something I had never experienced before, and very much enjoyed. So flanked by two "ladies' maids" we reached our destination - the very same fine cloths store I had been wrongly attacked in.

My heart sped up in anticipation as we entered. I held my fan in front of my face to mask my grin and swept in grandly. The same pasty-faced monkey looked at us from her counter, and her mouth dropped open at what she thought was a noblewoman of sorts. She came hurriedly and humbly forward, smiling a large fishy smile, making a terrible fool of herself.

"Madame, what can I do for you? I have the very best of merchandise here for your pleasure, you need only to say the word. I hope I can be of assistance, I'm so very glad you've come into my store on this fine day." And so it continued as I strutted up and down the aisles, examining the rolls and piles of beautiful fabric. I saw a great deal of stuff I liked there, but I was mindful we had to get the business over with quickly, in case she saw through my disguise. I turned to her abruptly, cutting off her grovelling speeches.

"Velvet," I snapped imperiously. "I require velvet. Extremely fine velvet, only the best will do. I don't suppose you have such fine fabric here?" I finished, staring down my nose at her.

"On the contrary, Madame, I am very proud of the fine velvet I stock here," she said hastily, and led me over to the same place that the red velvet I had stolen used to lie.

I ran a lace-gloved finger over what she showed me, as she stood back, a fawning smile of anticipation on her face, and humphed finally. "It will do for my purposes, I suppose. You have this in black and white, I hope?"

"Of course!" she said and hastily got out what I required, wrapping it up for me, grinning that awful smile. So different from the face I had seen before.

"This will do very well for the horse's blankets," I said to her, and she paused, looking at me disbelievingly.

"I beg Madame's pardon, but did she say - "

"Horse's blankets, yes!" I said impatiently, rising my nose in the air. "My husband's horses."

She looked a trifle dazed, and shook her head slightly before continuing. "Begging Madame's pardon further, I'm sure her judgement is excellent, but this is extremely fine velvet - "

"And my husband owns extremely fine horses!" I said. "Come now, good lady, I have many things to do today."

I heard a stifled giggle behind me and turned around to observe Colombine covering her face.

"Flora, you will kindly mind your manners!" I snapped at her, and gulping so hard her face flushed red, she bobbed me a curtsy.

"Begging your ladyship's pardon."

"Oh - My Lady - I didn't realise - " the store lady began, but I cut her off again.

"It's of no consequence. May I have my fabric now?"

She finished wrapping it up, giving me an even larger smile, and handed it to me graciously.

I turned to Colombine. "Flora - my purses please."

Still struggling with her laughter, Colombine reached into her basket and withdrew one of the purses. I noticed the store woman looking at her dark face closely, and to stop any suspicions forming I handed the heavy purse to her.

"That should cover it all, with something extra for your trouble. I've been very pleased here, I shall certainly recommend you to my friends."

"Oh thank you, My Lady! Your Ladyship is far too kind!" she enthused, and I turned, and motioned hurriedly for the others to leave. We did so, and walked sedately (yet very quickly) to the end of the street, turned the corner and broke into a simultaneous run. We ran until we were well clear of the store, and then we paused in an alley, the three of us gasping for breath, feeling very triumphant indeed. Colombine was the first to break our silence but whacking me good-naturedly.

"FLORA?? You called me Flora, you beast!!"

I laughed. "It was all I could think of. What's the trouble? It's a pretty name!"

"Yes, pretty for an old maid perhaps!!!"

Cosette meanwhile, was clutching her chest.

"I've never had such a terrifying experience in all my life," she gulped. "Not even when those drunk sailors came into the tavern."

We laughed and hugged her and she looked anxiously at me.

"Please tell me you've not gotten that dress dirty."

I pirouetted for her. "Not a mark, see? Now let's get back quickly!! Once she looked in that purse and realised those coins were brass she probably screamed the store down on her head. It will be interesting to hear what comes of it."

"Lord, we're all going to hang!" Cosette moaned as we hurriedly got back to the tavern, the patrons there staring at the "noblewoman" and her two "serving girls" in much astonishment, and went through to the backroom. "That's what's going to come of it!"

Colombine and I were in far too jovial a mood to pay her pessimism any mind, and we danced our way through the Court. We decided to change in Colombine's tent to avoid any questions from Clopin, and when we were done I looked at my velvet proudly.

"Will I ever have stories to tell my grandchildren!" I said triumphantly. I wrapped up the finery carefully and gave it back to Cosette who happily scurried back to return it, and so ease her troubled little mind.

Colombine shook her head as she looked at me. "Your father sure put some fine ideas in your head! You acted the noblewoman like it was your born station in life."

I pouted and began to strut in front of her. "Says you, Madame Grand Duchess! You might recall I am the Queen!! I am royalty, by god! I will bear the royal children! You will call me Your Majesty!"

She laughed so hard she fell off her chair, and spurred on, I continued my preening, and personal exultation, speaking of how they would write about me when I died, how I was esteemed above all other women etc., etc. I heard a cough behind me and whirling around I found Clopin there, looking at me with a great deal of amusement.

"For god's sakes stop encouraging her, Colombine," he told her, as she was still laughing. Then he turned to me, and made me a great low (and very mocking) bow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Sorry to interrupt her Royal Highness's Royal Court of Personal Gratification, but his Royal Majesty, her Kingly Husband, desires the honour of her Royal Company in the Royal Tent."

I took a running leap and bowled him over, pinning him to the ground. "Oh very funny, Royal Oaf!! But the laugh's on you, for being the Queen, I refuse to walk such dirty ground! You will have to carry me back, wriggling on your belly, while I sit on you."

He only stared at me for a moment, before easily pushing me off and pinning me under him.

"I'm very much afraid the laugh's on you, my love, if you have got such notions into your head that you think I will do that!" I loved it when he called me his love - although he hadn't said he loved me I could pretend he did when he said that. So I just grinned at him stupidly and Colombine gave a groan behind us.

"If you two are going to get all kissy and touchy, could you please go back to your own tent to do it?"

Clopin kissed me swiftly and got off me. He helped me up and made a great show of dusting me off, paying particular attention to whacking my dress on my derriere.

"Alright, that's enough!" I scolded him, and with a hearty wave to Colombine who grinned at us cheerfully, we were going back, me clutching my precious parcel in my hands, laying my cheek on it and smiling blissfully.

"What's that, Herli?" Clopin asked me curiously. I clutched it close and grinned wickedly at him.

"It's mine!" I said.

He rolled his eyes. "Obviously. But what is it?"

"Fabric!"

He looked at me sharply. "I hope you didn't go up and steal it."

I feigned insult. "Absolutely not, my only darling. I paid good money for this. Good brass money!" and I stopped and laughed so heartily my sides ached. Clopin just stared in bewildered astonishment at me, and shook his head.

Before we reached our tent, however, we were interrupted. It was Pierre and Marc, two of the Spies within the Court, and they showed more emotion than I'd seen before as they panted, running up to us.

"We found soldiers in the catacombs," Marc said solemnly, and Clopin's face immediately grew severe.

"Is that a fact? Where are they now?"

"Tied up in the Square. They came down from the entrance to the Tavern. It's just the two of them. No others. We threatened them with torture and they caved immediately. They followed a few strange-looking girls out of curiosity. No-one else knows where they are."

I gulped. I had an unpleasant idea the 'strange-looking girls' had been myself and the others. Oh if only we had been more careful, more observant!

I fearfully told Clopin what I suspected as we hurried along to the Square, and he groaned and glared at me.

"Damn it! Can't you be careful when I tell you to be careful? Why are you so damned stubborn?"

"I'm sorry!" I snapped back. "I didn't know there'd be soldiers there. How the hell would I? Don't be angry at me. You've done worse."

He sighed. "You realise what I'm going to have to do with these soldiers?"

I nodded, and moved closer to him.

We reached the square, and up on the stage were the two soldiers, trussed and gagged, and nearly wetting themselves with fear. I recognised our friends from the brawl at the tavern a few weeks ago. I realised they must've returned in pursuit of gypsies, and with disgust I thought they deserved everything they were about to get. The other Romani were gathering at the bottom, looking up in interest. They guessed Clopin's identity, and began struggling at their bonds. He, meanwhile, bounded light-heartedly up on the stage and addressed them flamboyantly.

"Well gentlemen, I imagine you know who I am?"

They nodded, their eyes wide and wary.

"And I imagine you also are aware that this is my land, my home, my sacred territory?"

They nodded again, this time more slowly.

"And as you are trespassers in my land, I imagine you think it fair I treat you according to the rules of my land, no?"

They made no movement this time. He meanwhile, moved between them and leaned on them companionably.

"Ahh, but there may be a chance for you. If it can be proved you bear the people under my rule no ill will. What say you to a little test, my boys?" And he plucked a gag from one of their mouths.

"You're nothing but gypsy scum!" the soldier cried, in an attempt to be brave. "Frollo will find you and hang you like the dogs you are!! You're scum, scum!" Clopin just looked at him steadily and the man fell silent. Clopin shook his head sadly.

"How rude! I shudder to think what his friend might have said!"

The crowd laughed, and looked on eagerly. Out of the corner of my eye I could Isabelle watching the proceedings with great interest. She had grown even more voluptuous since coming back to the Court, and there was a very peculiar expression on her face I did not like at all, but I forced myself to turn away and return my attention to my husband.

"Well I guess you boys have made your decision. My friend's - the nooses, if you please."

A few of the Romani came forward and fixed the nooses around the soldiers' neck. More and more aware of their situation, they struggled harder against their bonds, the bigger of them beginning to cry, and I almost pitied them. The one whose gag had been removed began to cry out he had been only joking, he was actually a great friend to the gypsies, and had come to join up with them. These lies, however, only made the crowd more anxious for his neck to be wrung, although Clopin played with them a moment longer.

"You declare that you wish to be a truant?"

"Yes!" the man sobbed.

"And that you will recognise me as your sovereign leader?"

"Yes!"

"And you will serve me always and turn your back on Frollo?"

"Anything!"

Clopin scratched his chin. "Weeelll - it's tempting. But I'm afraid we're a peaceful people" - he winked to the crowd who cheered - "and we have no use for soldiers. Too bad." He yanked the lever that would release the trapdoor.

"No wait - " the man began, but was cut off. Despite their previous enthusiasm, the crowd gave a little gasp at the violent ending, before staring in morbid fascination, as the bodies twitched and then became still.

Only I watched coldly, and Clopin too, with an almost sadistic expression. I glanced across at Isabelle and was sickened to find a very sadistic smile on her face. I almost felt the hypocrite, but I knew Clopin and I were detached because we believed the deaths were right and for the greater good. Isabelle's expression told only of a morbid love of the violence, and I wished again she was no longer in the Court.

-----

After that, eyes were kept peeled. The Romani were more on their guard than before, for we were aware now that the hunt was intense. Large rewards were offered for the King of the Gypsies and his wife and minions. Both Clopin and I were rather proud of the fact that Frollo was expending so many efforts in our capture, but we remained relatively cautious. He told me I had to remain within the Court, and he burst a blood vessel every time I snuck away. Likewise I feared for him. I hated him leaving, and would anxiously await his return, although I showed nothing. We argued about it often: who had the right to leave and who should stay hidden, why, what were the dangers, you can't tell me what to do etc., etc. Inevitably we ended up laughing at the end of these arguments, it being practically impossible to stay angry at each other for long.

I slaved away hard with my velvet, growing well-pleased with what was beginning to form beneath my hands. In the quiet corners of the Court I resumed my acrobatics, my juggling and the other skills I had been noted for in India. I convinced Renault, one of the Court's better musicians, to teach me to play the lyre, and I practised hard at it for many hours, growing more pleased as my skill grew.

I also became a regular visitor to Abigail's tent, not least because of her animals. For hours I could see with Chantal, the snake on my lap, or Jezebel on my shoulder, sing with any number of the parrots, and gently stroke Celeste, the silver-grey hare, while she regarded me calmly. Abigail also was a source of great comfort, having much wisdom, but a very youthful outlook on life. I feared sharing nothing with her, and found her very company greatly soothing. Abigail was pleased I and Clopin were now on the right path, but she urged me to tell him how I felt, which I still could not do.

"Child, how do you not know he feels the same way?" she asked me. "And furthermore, do you expect to find out without making the first move? You and Clopin both can be as stubborn as mules when you wish to be, one of you has to take a chance."

I grumbled and rearranged myself on the cushions, so that I might hold all the little mice in my skirts, watching them chase one another and sniff at the strange fabric curiously.

"I don't know, Abigail. I just can't. Not yet. I imagine I will. But when I'm ready."

"Now you listen, you shouldn't wait. Who knows what tomorrow holds? You should grab your opportunities while they are open to you."

"Nothing will happen to Clopin or myself, Abigail. We have plenty of time!"

"Ha! Oh, the arrogance of youth!" she said with dry humour. "You'd do well to listen to the wisdom of the old! How's that big beast of yours?"

"Who, Clopin or Chester?" I asked with a laugh, and she joined in.

"Well, Clopin I've already enquired after. We'll move on to Chester now."

"He's becoming unsettled again. I try to sneak him out at night, but with Clopin practically resorting to tying me to the bed at night to keep me there, it's hard to get him out. And he refuses to go with Clopin. He went with Colombine a couple of times, but he'd rather me, and we both would really like to go back to the countryside again." I sighed. She nodded sympathetically.

"Keep him under for a while, girl. I don't know why exactly, but he's had a peculiar aura lately. Best not to take needless chances. Speaking of needless chances, I know what you've been getting up to with expensive velvet and what you're planning. You be careful. I'm sure you think it all seems like great fun, and it will be, right up until they lead you to the gallows."

I laughed a little. By now I was used to Abigail knowing all that was going on. I was not entirely sure how she knew, but I had seen true magic before and so did not worry too much about it. "Don't worry, Abigail. I will be very, very careful. No-one up there will recognise me anyway. Besides, I must do this. It's itching me on the inside, tickling my brain. I wonder how much longer before the man hunt is relaxed?"

She shook her head and looked troubled, a rare expression for her. "There's trouble mounting, both up there and down here. Clopin and his cronies took one risk too many this year, which is why pressure is more intensified. I've warned him again and again, but it seems the lot of our people to have some kind of mass war with the gadjes with every King's reign. There's some bad air down here. I'm keeping my eyes out. I don't trust that witch Isabelle, but she's skilled enough to mask her mind from me."

My interest was piqued now. "Isabelle is a witch?"

She nodded. "Aye, a wicked and unfortunately, very clever one. Hard to say if she is a traitor though. There are other more desperate than she."

"Do you think she cast a spell over Clopin?"

She laughed at that. "No no, she is not so vulgar as that, at least not yet. So long as she could control him through the loins, she didn't need to do anything like that."

I mulled over this new revelation for a few moments. "Isabelle knew that I had not had relations with Clopin prior to her arrival. I feared Clopin had told her, but could she learn it through her craft?"

"It's possible. You should ask him if you want to know for sure, however."

"Hmmm... I don't want him to think I don't trust him."

"But if he did tell her, why would he be offended by your question?"

"But if he didn't, he certainly would be!"

"Well, it's up to you. Does it really matter now, is what you should ask yourself."

I got up and returned the mice to their home, then dusted off my skirts.

"Clopin will kill me for coming home smelling like mice again. Chester will love it! He likes to eat mice. He hunts them. He is like my father. Rolling in the dirt with me, and then seriously seeking his prey. Well, my father never sought prey. He sought audience. The same thing, perhaps. I remember my father taught me some magic. Will you teach me magic, Abigail?"

"Hmmm...I'll think about it. I think with a little guidance we could awaken some skill in you. I'll have a think about it tonight and ascertain what type of skill it is."

When Abigail said she would have a think, it generally meant she would go into some kind of magical trance which would allow her to see all things, or something like that.

I went over and hugged her. "Thank you. I would love that."

She grinned at me amiably. "Alright now, better go back to that tent, before your husband brings the Court down shouting for you."

I laughed and scooted out, skipping cheerfully down the way. I stopped when I saw Jean-Luc coming out of a tent, wiping his brow, looking amazingly distressed. He didn't see me, and stopped, burying his face in his hands.

"Jean-Luc, whatever is the matter?" I enquired, more out of curiosity than concern. I didn't know him very well.

He jumped at the sound of my voice and looked at me guiltily.

"Herlikin! I - that is - it's - it's nothing. Nothing is the matter."

I laughed at him. "Then stop looking so distressed. Anyone would think Shaitan himself had arrived to collect your soul."

He was pale, and looked at me anxiously still. But I could not trouble myself to worry about it too much, and continued my cheerful way home.

Clopin awaited me, a frown of thunder on his face. I laughed at him, and tossed him a cloth.

"Here, wipe that expression from your face! I've not been out, only to Abigail's."

He came closer and then wrinkled his nose. "I can smell it. Mice! Damnit Herli! Well, there's nothing for it. I'll have to get you out of those clothes."

He lunged for me, and I squealed and ducked out of his way. He chased me for a few minutes more before I allowed myself to get caught (falling over had nothing to do with it) and stripped, and then flung me down on the bed before he joined me.

-----

After we made love I told him that Abigail was going to teach me magic and he groaned.

"Marvellous. Exactly what I don't need. I'm going to tell her not to bother."

I whacked him.

"You wouldn't dare! You have no right! I can learn magic should I wish!"

"Believe me, cherie, I have had enough hexes put on me by amateur witches to very much want to avoid another!"

I sat up and leaned over him, cooing sweetly. "But why would I want to put a hex on you, my only darling?"

He pulled a face. "Only darling besides that big tiger of yours. And Colombine, I've heard you call her darling. Little Esmeralda has also been darling several times, and..."

"Alright alright, you make your point. What should I call you then? My only husband?"

"I should damned well hope so!"

I laughed and cuddled him. "My darling limping fool?"

"You're the only one whose been limping out of the two of us. As for "Fool", I'm not the one who nearly got arrested and hanged for a piece of fabric."

"Alright, don't get agitated. I was only calling you by name after all."

He sighed and sat up, shrugging me off. "I can't handle this criticism!" he said in mock despair. "Either you hold me sacred or you hold nothing at all!"

"Except this," I said, making a dart for where he was most sensitive. He caught my hands just in time, and slapped them, shaking a finger at me.

"Naughty naughty! And to think this abuse all began because I wanted you to distinguish me from the others in your life."

"Alright - my only love," I said tenderly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He looked at me in interest, and I sat back when I realised what I had said. He was about to speak when I interrupted. "Let's go on an adventure!!"

He looked disappointed and tried to speak but I silenced him with more words, leaping up from the bed.

"Come on, I have a wonderful idea in mind! Let's go! Let's go now!"

"You and your adventures!" he muttered irritably. "I'll probably have to carry you home. Anyway, what am I talking about? You're not allowed to leave the Court."

I threw his clothes onto him and then began to pull my own on. "Don't you say that! I can leave if I feel like it!! Besides, I'll have you, you big strong brave man, to protect me!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You can't change my mind that way. You also can't change it by putting clothes on. You might have more success by taking them off again."

I threw his cloak at him. "Come on. Let's leave. If you don't want to come I'll go on my own."

He sat up and frowned at me. "And I'll drag you back down and beat your bottom raw!"

I poked my tongue out "You had better come with me, in that case. Not that I need you. I can hold my own up there as well as you."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. You couldn't even handle two overweight soldiers!"

"I was doing fine until I tripped! Besides, that was not the only nor the last time I had a run in with similar gentlemen, so let's not open our mouths too soon!"

He narrowed his eyes at me, and began to get dressed. "Well cherie, since you're insistent upon defying me, all I'll say is I hope your luck doesn't run out."

"It won't," I said confidently, but he did not look so sure.

-----

Within a few minutes we were making our way out of the Court. Jean-Luc was again looking anxious as we passed him in heated discussion with Renault. I noted with some interest the disdain and irritation on Renault's fate as Jean-Luc pleaded with him over something. Again I raised an eyebrow, but I did not ask Clopin if there was anything troubling the young man.

Feeling rather adventurous, I suggested we take the exit from the Palace of Justice and Clopin quite happily took me up on the offer. After that I led the way through the dark streets to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, eagerly rushing up its stone steps, and about to push open the heavy doors, when Clopin pulled me back.

"What are we doing here? Are you going to pray to be less opinionated? Perhaps to stop arousing the interest of public officials? Perhaps even that you'll have mercy on your poor husband and obey him for a change. Or Perhaps - "

I shoved him. "None of that! I just want to see if, being not of the Catholic faith, I burst into flames after I cross the threshold."

He threw his arms up in the air. "Of course! I should've known it would be something as nonsensical and illogical as that! What was I thinking??"

I only grinned at him and pushed the large door open, sneaking in, although the street was deserted. I tiptoed on the large black and white marble floor, my heart beating quite rapidly within my chest. The reason I had given Clopin was not entirely true, but I was curious about what it looked like within. I respected the Church as a sacred place, but had no particular reverence for it. Nonetheless, I paused once inside, looking around me surreptitiously, and then jumped when Clopin laid a hand on my shoulder. It was his turn to grin.

"Satisfied? Come on, let's go. We have no reason nor need for this place."

But emboldened by my success, I grasped his hand and led him to the stone steps, ignoring his protests.

"Let's look through the huge windows at the top! I want to see what it looks like from so high up!"

I ran up the stairs, and despite himself he followed. "I can't believe we're doing this," he muttered. "Wandering around an empty, cold stone cathedral of all places. I can think of a dozen positions I would rather be in, all of them requiring complete nakedness!"

I laughed as I darted up before him." Don't you think it would be very romantic at the top? The beautiful fluted columns, carved statues, the dark, the view of Paris, a man and his wife alone together - "

"In the House of God! Brilliant, Herli. I can't think of anything more romantic or damning."

"But that's where it's wonderful to be a gypsy. We don't have to worry about that!"

I snuck a glance behind me and saw his face piqued with new interest.

"That's very true. I've obviously been listening to the sermons of wandering monks too much. Wait, I'm right behind you!"

Beginning to get slightly out of breath, I continued on doggedly. The more active and stronger Clopin overtook me, laughing triumphantly whilst I waved a feeble fist at him. Finally we had reached the top, and rushed down the beautifully structured corridors, gazing at the enormous carved windows. The sight was breathtaking, and we both of us gazed out at the dark city, lit in only a few places by still burning lights, entranced and smiling, while a cool wind whipped around us gently.

"Admit it, it was worth it" I nudged him. He shrugged.

"Alright, but I've done this before."

I slapped him hard. "Liar! You have not! Don't you ruin this for me!"

He chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. My eyes were virgins to this view until you brought me up here. We viewed it the first time together." He pulled me into his arms. "You're right. It's very romantic." He smiled down at me and we began to kiss. Feeling wicked and both of us slightly nervous and apprehensive in our risqué choice of setting, we burned with desire, and he propped me on the stone ledge, wrapping my legs around him.

"Don't let me fall!" I whispered.

"God, I'd rather die," he murmured back.

"God has nothing to do with it," I giggled. Then I felt something brush against my skirts, and startled I looked down, catching in the moonlight a small and hideous face. I gave a panicked scream and pushed Clopin away, jumping down.

"What, what is it?" he asked me worriedly. I threw myself on him, trying to hide my face.

"It's true, it's all true!" I shrieked "We're being damned to Hell for fulfilling our desire in a sacred place!!"

"What are you babbling about?" he asked me in bewilderment. "Calm down, you hysterical female!"

He shoved me to one side, and catching movement in the shadow of one of the columns we had just been near, he moved forward curiously. My first instinct was to pull him back, not wanting my husband to be dragged to hell by a devil, but then I realised that for a devil it was very timid and quiet. I didn't know much about devils but I had always been under the impression they were noisy and rude.

Clopin moved forward, holding out a hand, and the thing shuffled from the shadows, in a desperate attempt to get away from him. We both of us gave a startled gasp as the moonlight fell on it then, to see it so misshapen and grotesque. Then Clopin gave a little laugh.

"Why, you silly woman! It's just the little boy that bastard Frollo keeps up here. Poor boy, you have scared him more than he has scared you!"

I felt very indignant. "I did not see him well! How was I to know??"

Clopin just laughed at me, and tried to coax the boy to him, who cowered and hid his face from us. I had a terrible feeling suddenly that I had perhaps not been the first to scream at the sight of him, and I felt very guilty. He was just a poor boy after all, and I knew better than many to not judge on appearance. So feeling contrite, I also moved gently forward and called to the boy. He refused to come closer, hiding his face, and I thought - no creature has such instinctive awareness of its own appearance. Someone has been telling this boy he is not fit to be looked at. And I frowned at the thought. Boldly, I strode forward and picked the boy up into my arms.

He gave a cry of fear and tried to break from my grasp, and he was amazingly strong, I can say that. But I held him tight and turned his face to mine, smiling at him in a friendly fashion, and after awhile he stopped his struggles and sat looking at me, tears in his little child's eyes, confusion and apprehension written on his face.

"There, there now," I soothed him, wiping the tears from his arms with my sleeve. "The shrieking witch will shriek no more - "

"Thank god" Clopin muttered, clearing his ears out.

"Shut up, Clopin!" I snapped at him, and returned my attentions to the boy, sitting down and settling him in my lap. "I am sorry I frightened you so. Do you understand what I say? How old did you say this boy was, Clopin?"

Clopin turned to me from looking out over the city, wrinkling his brow. "About three years, I should think. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less."

He kneeled before me and the boy who gaped at us both in awe. I liked the inquisitive expression on his face, and he was so placid and gentle-looking I wondered what had first led me to jump in fright from him. I rather fancied we were some of the only people he'd ever seen so close before, but his fear was beginning to dissipate, and I rubbed my hands soothingly over his head, examining his face in the moonlight, wandering down the path of fancy.

"There now, you are not so ugly after all," I said caressingly. "In fact, your face is rather sweet. You shouldn't be up here. It is no place for children. Would you like to come home with me?"

I wasn't sure how accustomed the boy was to speech, and so was uncertain how much he understood, apart from my gentle tone, but I continued anyway. "You can play with other children where I live. You have red hair, like me - "

I noted Clopin was shaking his head vigorously. "Ooooh no, ohhh no you don't!"

"What?" I asked him.

"Absolutely not, so get the idea out of your head immediately! This boy stays where he is!"

"But the tower is dark and cold and there is nothing for children here!"

"Well, I don't care!"

"Heartless truant!"

"Look, I'm very sorry for the boy's plight I'm sure, but he has always a roof over his head, clothes and food. He has more than many gypsies have!! First and foremost of all, any children we raise will bear my blood. Second - this boy belongs to Frollo. I don't need the heartache it would cause!"

"Some heartache! Frollo keeps him up here like an animal!"

"I don't mean Frollo's heartache!! It's not our place to remove him. I have to think of the Romani children first. I have a responsibility. It's all very fun to steal and tease soldiers, but this is courting disaster."

I sulked, but could see the validity of his points. On reflection I did not know truly what to do with a child, and what's to say the Romani would welcome him anymore than the gadjes did? The child meanwhile had grown calm beneath my gentle hands, and had looked from one and the other of us as we spoke. I could see quiet intelligence in his eyes, along with sweetness, and I smiled down at him. In a brief moment of illumination he smiled back at me, and his face became truly beautiful. I cuddled him and smiled, liking the feeling of a small body in my arms. Clopin watched us, disapproving, one eyebrow raised.

"Please, don't let your whimsy allow you become more attached than you should, my love. The boy would require a lot of care and attention, and I'm not sure you're ready to give so much of yourself to another."

I glared at him angrily. "I give myself to you without complaint, do I not? Always my time, my bed, my food and my care!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

He sniffed at me, "A child is very different, cherie. I'm much more a suitable companion for you."

"Have you no sympathy for him at all?"

"Of course I have cherie, but he is not a charge in my care, and I don't intend him to be either. And I know you well enough to know you're entertaining mere fancy now, I doubt you'd feel the same after a couple of weeks of constant demands and cries for attention and play. Especially seeing as how you've not borne him yourself. And we have plenty to do, and worry about as it is. Come on. Let's put the child to bed and go."

"I'm sure I could have helped to care for him. I needn't look after him myself. I just don't think it's fair he should become a social outcast."

Clopin dragged me to my feet, the boy with me. "NOW, Herli."

"Alright," I grumbled, and smiled again at the boy, taking him by his hand. He led me eagerly inside, smiling happily, having already identified us as new friends. I felt bad that we were deceiving him so, but could tell from the stubborn line of Clopin's mouth he would not be moved on this decision. The boy led us to a dark room in the top of the belltower, lit only by a small candle. He limped in front of me eagerly, showing me his bed and three of the weather-worn stone gargoyles that had evidently been removed from the parapets for some reason. He had begun to talk, his childish speech babbling incoherently from his misshapen mouth, but I followed the best I could. I saw on the walks many childish drawings in charcoal, and grinned wickedly at Clopin.

"For a boy of three, he is quite an artist. Better than you were, and you were older!" He only snorted, but I saw him look at the drawings carefully. They were good for such a small boy, and I noticed with disgust that there were no other toys for the boy here to play with. I picked up a lump of wood, and an idea hit me then. Eagerly I pulled out my small fine dagger concealed beneath my skirts, and handing both it and the chunk of wood to Clopin, urged him -

"Here, carve the boy a toy. Show him how you do it!"

Clopin just looked at me, jaw open, evidently thinking I had finally gone mad. But I shoved them on him, and in defeat he took them and sighing, sat down at the table, beckoning to the boy to come closer. His skilled hands quickly carved a little figure from the wood, with smiling face and belled cowl, and he handed it to the delighted boy who looked at in amazement.

"Leave him my dagger," I said to Clopin. He shook his head at me.

"The boy will cut himself, for god's sakes!"

"Damn you! If you won't let me take him where he can have toys of his own, at least give him the means to make them!"

I snatched the dagger from him, and handed it to the child. The boy took it and another piece of wood, and with infinite care began to copy the actions he had seen Clopin do a moment before.

"See, he is careful! He is smart!" I leaned over to the boy and pointed to the knife. "This is very sharp. You must be very careful not to cut yourself."

The boy nodded, and I touched his cheek, smiling.

"What's your name, little one?"

The boy hesitated and then answered, "Quasimodo."

"No, what's your name? What are you called by those who know you?"

He looked at me blankly for a moment and then said again, "Quasimodo."

"You are called this? Quasimodo?"

Again a hesitation and then a nod. I looked at Clopin who sighed and raised his shoulders helplessly.

"Oh yes, it's much better to leave the boy here where his very name is "half-formed"!!"

He gave another sigh and shook his head. "Things happen for a reason, my love. It's not our place to interfere. Now let's go."

I took his hand and smiled sadly at the boy who watched us now, with a stricken expression, dagger in one hand, half-formed and lumpy clump of wood in the other. He gave a little cry that wrenched at my heart, and I saw a flicker of emotion on Clopin's face, but he dragged me firmly away as I promised the boy we would visit again.

When we reached the bottom Clopin shook his head at me.

"We're not visiting again, Herli. It's not our place. We have our own lives."

"But - "

"End of discussion. Come on."

-----

Although I sulked that night, I did find myself so busy with the activities of the Court that I could scarcely spare the boy a thought after that. I did wonder about him sometimes, but the Cathedral was such a remote and distant place, our moonlight meeting so brief, that I did without very much concern or worry. After Abigail told me that the boy had his place in our future and we should leave things as they were, I let him slip from my mind with a clear conscience.

But even that brief encounter had been enough to awaken the maternal instincts within me, and I began to fill a small part of my day playing with the Court children. It was as yet only a small part of my day, as I was always busy caring for our tent, filling it with pretty possessions Clopin lamented we didn't need, but which were pleasing to look at, fooling around with Colombine, practising the magic Abigail was graciously teaching me, and continuing of course to work on my plan. If you hadn't already guessed, my plan was simply to perform once more on the streets, but under a mask so that no-one should see my visage. Add to this cooking, sewing and cleaning, helping Clopin in the development of the Court, and providing my husband with support, friendship, love and physical gratification, and I was a very busy woman.

Abigail had "ascertained" that the skill I would exceed in was perception. She claimed that now I had opened my heart up I could obtain a high ability to see into the hearts of others, or at the least, perceive their deeper feelings. So apart from the simple skills of preparing medicines and spells I was taught the far more difficult skills of casting a circle from which to pursue the thoughts and feelings of others and opening my mind to revealing dreams. It was frustrating, for so long had my mind been closed and unreceptive to those around me, it was hard work to get it limber and working again. But I pursued it doggedly, and Abigail was pleased at my progress.

Clopin further developed the Court, adding to it as whimsy struck, and we were all impressed by his efforts. Our people grew to love and admire him as they had few leaders before him. The only negative aspect of it was giving him a higher recognition, something not exactly desirable at the moment. I guessed that part of his strategy was to bring all the Romani together, to give them a sense of us sticking together and existing in our own right as a people, inspiring in them a sense of comradeship and loyalty and discouraging possible spies and traitors. I questioned him about it and he had hugged me fiercely to him.

"I should've known you would see," he whispered to me and kissed me passionately. With my new sight I could swear it was love, but I did not want to give myself so much credit, not yet.

And all the while Isabelle hovered in the background, her face ugly with hatred, her words poison which she dripped into the ears of the gypsy girls. As silly and impetuous as many of them were, most were smart enough to ignore her. But she had her supporters. For the most part she left Clopin and I alone, but she and her girls expressed loud displeasure in the increasingly static nature of the Court. They claimed it was better we remained nomad. Though she never attacked me directly herself, she had her few friends try to continue the resentful attitude towards me, which had rapidly begun to dissipate as the girls lost interest. But never having been particularly friendly with those girls anyway, I didn't care at all. I was quite content with Colombine's sole company.

I noticed Jean-Luc's continuing discomfort and finally questioned Clopin about it. His reply was a shrug, he had noticed the change as well, but found nothing to attribute it too. He supposed it had something to do with his family, not within the Court.

"For he is not one of us, you know, cherie," he told me.

"No? Really? I would never have guessed!" I replied with sarcasm and he tickled me.

"Speaking of the gadje, doubtless you know Colombine's amour is one of them?"

I nodded. Colombine's acquaintance with Frederick, her supplier of glorious black and white garments, had continued and developed into quite a passionate love affair. Between the two of us becoming so involved with the men in our lives we did not have as much time together anymore, but grew no further apart as a result of it.

"She tells him nothing, my sweet. He is a good man, from what I can tell, but she does not share our secrets with him."

"I know, she is not so stupid as that Herli! It will be interesting to see what becomes of it though."

-----

Another month passed and all remained well within the Court. The heat from the soldiers began to die down as they grew bored with consistent failure. I learned that this was a regular occurrence. The direct pressure from Frollo never really dissipated, but the concentrated efforts were only so as long as Frollo's fury was at its peak. The moment it calmed somewhat, and the soldiers realised they were going to have no luck, they stopped bothering, until the next time one of us invoked Frollo's greatest anger.

Clopin still tried to get me to remain hidden beneath, but I continued to disobey, my argument being that if he had the right to distress me so by disappearing regularly, than that right was mine also. Besides which, I was determined to give Chester the fresh air and exercise he so needed. It was true, I loved stirring Clopin up as well.

We could read each other marvellously well now. He knew when I was homesick, when I was frustrated or upset over something. Likewise I could see the same in him, from the gestures he made, the things he said or did. We were a continual source of comfort and support to each other, not needing to enquire about the other's whereabouts to know instinctively where we would be. I suppose you could say we looked after each other, but more than in a physical sense. We were also the protectors of each other's mental stability!

My strength of perception grew and Colombine, Tante Marie, Christophe, Bethan and many others grew irritated with my accurate diagnosis and predictions, as I practised on them. I began to have enlightening dreams frequently, but found also that the powers descended on me far too quickly. It then required a great deal of effort to control them so that they came only when they were bidden. I knew as well as any that to constantly use them could only lead to disaster - we're not meant to know all things. As tempted as I was to read Clopin's heart, I forbade myself. I wanted him to tell me himself, when he could. But finally I had them under control and employed them only when I had a matter of some importance to pursue. The dreams came whether I wished them or not, but as yet they remained optimistic.

-----

My costume and practice was complete. I was ready to begin performing. I had of course kept my entire preparation secret from Clopin, but he had noticed the development of my muscles, my increased energy and he knew that I shared some secret with Colombine. But all his cleverest efforts to discover what it were inevitably failed. Spying on me failed, bribing Colombine failed, swearing he wouldn't sleep with me anymore failed (he couldn't keep that one for a day!), threatening me with a spanking completely failed, threatening to confiscate all my jewellery and clothes almost worked but I saw from the twinkle in his eye he was bluffing, so my secret remained hidden. Had he chosen simply to go through my trunk he would've found the costume and doubtless put two and two together, but he respected me too much for that.

So the day I crept out of the Court with my cloak wrapped tightly around me Clopin was unaware of my intentions. I rubbed my hands with glee on the streets and chose the Town Square to begin. My costume was designed to be striking, and it grabbed the attention of all as I cart wheeled into the Centre. It was a red, black and white Jester's costume, with a belled cowl and hood, alternating black and white diamonds and large panels of red, all made from my luscious stolen velvet. Concealed in the costume were many Romani devices to aid me in my craft, and with my hair hidden and my face masked, I knew it was highly unlikely I would be recognised.

And so I cart wheeled in, an explosion of colour and energy, and exclaimed my greetings to the crowd, my lyre strapped over my shoulder, my jester's wand tucked into my belt. What I had planned was simply a - variety show. Singing, dancing, jokes, mockery and a few small illusions. With my heart thudding a hundred times faster than usual at the thrill of having a captive audience I put everything I had into my performance, and was well pleased with myself. The audience lapped it up, street performers in this style being unusual when it wasn't festival time, and my velvet purse was filled quickly. I disappeared in a puff of smoke to reappear at the other end of the square to be observed by an all-new audience. I couldn't help but notice that several of the previous spectators came over to watch again.

I had practised very hard and it was paying off, although I could feel places needed improvement - the quickness of my wit for example. But working off the working class folk who watched, and the small children who grew delighted with what I did, I gave several quite good performances of mixed content, keeping my eyes peeled for Clopin, knowing he would see directly through the disguise.

But that day he didn't trouble me, so every day that I could (and I couldn't every day) I reappeared in different parts of the town to entertain, and I grew in skill and content. The typical structure of my show involved me making a dazzling entrance of some type - appearing in a cloud of smoke, somersaulting off a roof, something of that nature. This was followed by a humorous greeting to the gathering crowd, from whence I burst into song, playing my lyre. For the opening I usually did a humorous song, to warm the crowd up. I would then make jokes - usually using members of my audience as punch lines. From there I would relate the town's juiciest gossip in parody and caricature, then do a little dance as I again would sing. Perhaps then I would juggle, or perform some acrobatic feats to entrance. I would finish up with a simple story and song, before bowing and moving on. Many of the town children grew to recognise me and would herald my approach. I had other regular viewers too, most common amongst them errand-running wives, seeking a bit of light relief in their busy day.

No-one knew who I was of course, and because of my still fairly fair complexion, I rarely heard the word "gypsy". Most guessed I was just a wandering entertainer who'd decided the best pickings were in Paris. Few but the most pig-headed men commented on the fact that I was a solitary woman. My fame grew amongst the common folk, and many suggested, in their common naiveté, I take my act to the Palace. That idea amused me, though I knew it wasn't possible. I enjoyed my fame, the only downside being that my choice of costume and performance did not give me much opportunity to show off any kind of sensual femininity, but I comforted myself that a performance content and costume can always be reviewed at a later date. At any rate, my purses were always full now, and Clopin often commented on my smug expression when he returned of an evening, demanding to know where I was and what I had been doing. I promised to tell him soon, and told him I had been in no trouble. He trusted me and let me off the hook.

-----

I had been performing for a couple of weeks when my first opportunity to act on the second part of my plan arose. I was juggling a variety of a nearby street vendor's fruit, when out of the corner of my eye I espied some approaching soldiers. They were a common sight in Paris, and I, in my full body disguise, was never alarmed by them, but on this day they dragged a gypsy girl between them. I recognised her. It was Louisa, one of the nicer of the Court's younger women. Knowing her as I did, I doubted very much that she had done anything to earn their escort, and keeping one eye on my juggling, and the other fixed firmly on them, I waited until they drew closer. When they were within range, I rounded the fruit off so they sailed in a straight arc over the heads of the spectators, one by one hitting the lower back of the nearest guard. He yelped in surprise, as I took a running leap and somersaulted up on to a sign pole, sticking horizontally from a store front. It was a slippery and slim landing surface to say the least, but I managed to grip on with my feet and when the soldiers spied me I made them a grand sweep and mocking bow before back-flipping off to land neatly on my feet, both perfectly healed.

They let Louisa go, and moved menacingly towards me, but I pretended as though it had all been part of the act, and halting them with an outstretched hand, continued my tricks. I balanced my Jester's wand on my chin and resumed my juggling. They stopped and watched me in spite of themselves, laughing when I deliberately dropped the new pieces of fruit (whilst the vendor groaned) and made a sad and doleful face, in direct discordance with my painted smile. Grinning at them in encouragement, I took a watermelon in each hand and flipped easily over to where they both stood. Nudging one in feigned confidence, I smashed one watermelon over his companion's head. The other soldier laughed at his friend and then gasped as the other fruit was brought down over his. The audience roared their approval, watching the proceedings eagerly. While they stumbled about, pulling the pieces of fruit from their face, and wiping the juice from the eyes, I darted nimbly to the side, and whipping my lyre out, began to play a well-known song about the stupidity of soldiers.

Aware now that they were very much the butt of my jokes, they drew their swords and charged. I made them a hasty bow, before drawing a handful of pellets from my fingers and flinging them down, using the smoke to make good my escape. And throughout it all I had been very careful to not utter a word.

-----

So I continued in this way. If a soldier should be unfortunate enough to be picking on an innocent nearby me, he was quickly made a fool of. I had a new fame now - notoriety. But I had managed still to keep secret my identity. I used my perception to anticipate a soldier's actions, and this way, kept always two steps ahead of them. I was recognised by many where I went as not only a street performer, but the defender of gypsies and truants. Abigail knew what I was up to and scolded me fiercely, but I could see she was pleased nonetheless, apparently not seeing any impending danger in my actions. Only a few of the Romani picked up on who it was in the elaborate Jester's costume, and they thanked me and promised not to tell Clopin.

Somehow he had been so distracted with the Court he had managed to miss the gossip of the mysterious masked "femme fou", and I was glad. He might be pleased I was performing, but actively seeking out soldiers to torment was another matter entirely. He'd be furious.

With my new found wealth I was able not only to stock myself generously up on jewellery clothes and ornaments, but I bestowed gifts upon my closest friends lavishly. I bought new cloths for Abigail, replacing her old worn tools with new ones (the tools used for magic were left as a high degree of personalisation is essential for the craft), and a new ladle and pot for Tante Marie who bemoaned the only thing she wanted was for me to have a baby. Her lamentations were silenced by a new carved chest though. Colombine got glorious jewellery (cheap of course, I was not so rich I could afford the real thing!) and I delighted her by furnishing her bed with a huge black and white coverlet, cushions and sheets, folding all of her costumes up and putting them away in her trunks. She pursed her lips and looked at her bed in bewilderment.

"I'd forgotten what my bed looked like without all my costumes on it. With those covers it looks just the same!" And we laughed and danced.

We went through our jewellery collection and found a large bronze hoop. We christened Cosette an honorary gypsy and then furnished her in appropriate clothing. She looked at her reflection, did a little dance, laughing and then blushed. But we could see she was pleased.

I bought Jean-Luc a new hat to try and get the doleful expression off his face, and it did lift momentarily at the gift, before returning again. Chester got his own embroidered coverlets, and I bought him a sturdy brush as his old one was beginning to be worn out, and a large bronze collar he wore with pride.

As for Clopin - Clopin I bought anything that caught my eye I thought he would like. Buying fabric (I had wisely stopped going near Monkey-Face's store, sticking mainly to the market as they stocked themselves with object d'art more to my taste), I, on a whim, created for him a "King's" outfit of black and red and white, with a long flowing cloak trimmed in ermine. I kept my word and paid for the restorations on his cart, as he had cautiously begun going out again. He was delighted with my attentions, although not a little curious as to how I was obtaining all these things, in particular the money. It was extremely hard work to distract him from those questions and refocus his attention, and I knew I would have to tell him sooner or later. He was only letting it go now because he knew how badly I wanted my secret, but he wouldn't stay patient forever.

The only thing that kept me from telling him was the undoubted argument we would get into over my trouble-making, and I didn't want that.

But of course, my actions couldn't remain secret forever. In eluding one guard who was in better condition than the others, he managed to snatch my cowl from my head, revealing my fiery red hair to the world. Not wanting to lose part of my costume, I swung around a pole, kicking him in the chest, and retrieving it to dart hastily back to the Court by the most complicated route I knew.

After I changed, and cooled myself down, I wondered if many had observed my hair and if it would lead to my being discovered. It was discovery by Clopin I feared, and I had had the misfortune of counting Jehan and his friends in my audience that day. If Clopin should stop in the tavern, they would doubtless mention a red-and-black-clad street performer with red hair who caused trouble for the guards. Clopin would of course realise who it was immediately.

But I told myself not to speculate, what were the chances of him going to the Tavern? Extremely high, I thought with gritted teeth. But perhaps he wouldn't realise. What were the chances of that? Extremely low.

But I forced myself not to worry and begun along the way to visit Colombine. Even if he did go to the tavern, his drinking would take him a few hours, enough time for me to work out a plan of some sort. At any rate, he couldn't possibly be angry at me. Most of what I did was legitimate performing, just conveniently taking place at the same time soldiers were making unjust arrests, thereby allowing their captives to escape. No he had no right to be angry. That would just be silly of him, I was sure he would see reason -

There was a sudden kerfuffle in a corner of the Court, not far from where I stood, followed quickly by a bellowed -

"WHERE IS MY WIFE?!?!?!"

I gulped. That voice could only belong to one man, and the ferocity of its tone struck a very nervous bone in my body. I could hear indignant shouts as Clopin pushed his way through the Romani of the Court, making his way to our tent, which I was not as yet very far from. In a moment of panic I ducked behind one of the tents, watching as he appeared so fast he was practically a blur, throwing upon the entrance to out tent and disappearing within. I cringed as I heard him throw cushions and bed covers around, supposedly looking for me, and then the entrance was flung open again, and he emerged, a huge frown of anger on his face. I ducked back but he saw me, and giving a shout of mixed anger and triumph, started towards me. I broke cover and ran for my life.

"HERLIKIN, COME BACK HERE NOW!" he shouted.

"No!!" I threw back at him over my shoulder and continued to run, leaping over tent-strings and pegs, ducking around other Romani who followed me with amazed eyes, Clopin ever hot on my heels, his long legs covering a lot of distance. Filled with a terrified thrill I leapt over a wooden bench, and ducked down behind some barrels. I heard Clopin arrive then, breathing heavily.

"Where is my wife?" he demanded of the few Romani who sat nearby, but they were too startled by the sudden events to answer him straight away. It didn't matter. He took a wild guess and pounced on me behind the barrels. I gave a shriek and struggled, but he was stronger, and pulled me out. Dragging my struggling, protesting form to the bench he sat down, threw me over his lap and began to spank me soundly.

Clopin is not a lady-beater, that I have always known, and a spanking is as far as his "beatings" will go. But I, who had not known what to expect, was still stunned at his choice of punishment, embarrassed at being treated like a child, and I struggled helplessly, crying out in outrage.

When he finished he stood up, letting me fall to the ground mercilessly, and I saw to my mortification the nearby gypsies chuckling, trying to hide it. Clopin picked me and threw me over his shoulder then with me punching and kicking all the way, he ignoring it, we went back to our tent, the others looking at us in amazed mirth.

Once there I was thrown roughly down on the cushions, while he went through my trunks. He found the Jester's costume and held it up in grim triumph, looking imposingly down at me. I brushed it off and leapt to my feet yelling at him.

"How dare you embarrass me like that! Don't you ever lay a hand on me again! Who do you think you are?"

"Your husband. And when I tell you to behave yourself, then damn it, I expect you to behave!"

He flung my costume to the ground and I gathered it protectively to myself. If he destroyed it I would never forgive him and I said as much with my defiant stare.

He knelt down in front of me, shaking a finger in my face. "Now you listen. Had you told me you wanted to go out and perform, that is fine, it's wonderful. I guessed you were doing as much when you started to come home with all this money. But deliberately antagonising guards is not just endangering you, it's endangering us all. Not to mention you. Yes, I did repeat myself. Can't you understand anything, you silly woman? They hate us up there!! They would just as soon hang you as look at you, and you're deliberately arousing their anger. You're not thinking before you act, you foolish girl!"

So saying he smacked a hand against my forehead. I shoved him away angrily, and resisted the urge to leap on him, and bite him hard.

"Don't you lay a hand on me!" I sputtered. "I knew what I was doing or I would never have done it!!"

"No, you think you know what you're doing. You're deliberately going against things I told you not do for your own good. I'm the only one allowed to take risks in this Court!" I didn't laugh at his joke, but he didn't care. "Because you have to insist on being so stupid, I have no choice but to ban you altogether from performing until I decide you can again. This is not a rule being imposed for your own safety, it's just a punishment for acting like an idiot!"

"You can't ban me from performing!"

His look was wryly amused. "Oh yes I can."

"Stop treating me like a child!"

"Stop behaving like one!!"

"I wasn't! I was only performing. I only took advantage of a situation if it was there, I never actually sought it out."

"That may be so, but nonetheless you should never have done it to begin with. I know Colombine encouraged you and the same punishment applies to her. This is for your own good."

I hated him treating me like a child, speaking to me like a parent. He reached out his arms to pull me to my feet but I slapped them away, incensed.

"I said don't lay a hand on me!"

He stood up from his kneeling position, shaking his head. "You can be angry as you want, cherie, I'm not going to go back on what I've said. If you leave the Court without permission you can expect another spanking."

I pulled a shoe off and threw it at him in rage. He caught it before it hit him, dropped it, and with a despairing look, left me to my sulk.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

That night I had a very unsettling dream. I was running in the jungles of India, calling for Chester, but Chester wouldn't come. Suddenly the jungles turned into the streets of Paris, the shadows long and dark, my feet bare and cut and my clothes torn, my hair wild as I ran screaming desperately for my friend.

Suddenly a troop of soldiers passed in front of me, and in the midst of them, carried in an elaborately draped and decorated carriage like the ones in which noblemen and women were borne in India, was Minister Frollo. In my concern for Chester, I turned to run past them, and noticed out of the corner of my eye that he was wearing a cloak of white fur. But I continued on my path, turning into a street I was horrified to observe was strewn with skeletons of both human and animals. At the far end my heart rose suddenly at what I perceived to be Chester: his figure dark, illuminated from behind by a full moon.

Forgetting my horror, I began to clamber over the skeletons which gave way beneath me like quicksand. I struggled to the top in terror, continuing on my way regardless, and observed that the distant figure now looked like Clopin. I called out for him desperately, but was distracted by a skull I saw nearby. It was a tiger skull, and crying piteously, I clambered over the bones which poked and tore at my ragged flesh.

"Chester!" I moaned, but before I could grasp it I heard the cries of babies, coming near from where Clopin stood. I looked towards him and then back at the tiger skull. Again I looked at Clopin, and the cries grew louder. I had the feeling that if I went to Clopin I could silence the babies and Clopin could silence my fear. But nearer to me was the tiger skull, and I took another step forward, more hesitant now. The cries from near Clopin stopped, and I looked around, startled, then jumped again as they restarted, much closer to me. I looked back at the tiger skull and was frightened to see its wide jaws open - and within - I leant down a little looking fearfully into the bone mouth - was that - a baby - ?

I awoke screaming, terrified, drenched in sweat. Feeling something touching me, I lashed out in fear, screaming still. Cool hands were pinning me to the bed, a soft voice hushing me, and as I awakened more I realised it was Clopin, that he was holding my thrashing body to the bed, and I became aware that it had been a dream, and a strangled gasp came from me before I ceased my struggles and he loosed his hold on me, wiping my wet hair from my face, kissing my clammy forehead tenderly.

A light filled the tent and an anxious voice asked Clopin if all was well. He replied that I had had a nightmare. Whoever it was, I was too dazed to place the voice, asked if we needed any assistance and Clopin replied in the negative. I had calmed down somewhat now, and gave myself over to my tears as the light left the tent and we were once more in the soothing dark. Clopin tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him away.

"Go away, Dealer of my Humiliation!" I said in a poetically tortured voice, and continued my tears. But he was worried about me, and he went hurriedly to fetch me some water and a cool cloth. Lighting the candelabra next to our bed he forced me to drink a little, then made me take off my sweat-soaked nightdress (the first night in many I had worn one, owing to our fight!) and bathed my body tenderly with the cloth. As angry as I remained at him, it felt nice and was greatly soothing and I forgave him a little for spanking me. I trembled with emotion as he washed me down, his face concerned, his hands gentle. I had never been so greatly affected by a nightmare before, and the tears continued as he dried my body and then brushed my hair, kissing my neck.

Chester had been awakened by my cries and had come over to investigate, looking as concerned as Clopin. I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed again, and he purred against my cheek.

"Oh sure, hug the tiger!" Clopin said jealously, but I ignored him. Finally he bade me release Chester and send the tiger back to bed. He laid me down gently, climbing in beside me and blowing the candles out, and I allowed him to hold me close, the warmth of his body and the sound of his heartbeat very comforting.

-----

The next day he only asked tactfully if I felt better and when I nodded he leant down to kiss me, but I remembered I was angry at him and pushed him away. For the next four days I wouldn't speak to him or let him touch me, until the evening when he brought me a bunch of roses. I was determined to blow that off as well, until he knelt in front of me and kissed my navel passionately, apologising for spanking me in front of other Romani. I smiled, a little cheered, and forgave him. I swallowed my pride and apologised for disobeying him, and he forgave me and then asked if maybe I would not eat these roses, but keep them awhile. I arranged them in a vase cheerfully, and liked the way they made the tent look. We made love on the floor, not being able to wait long enough to get to the bed, and I had to swallow the urge to scream impassioned declarations of love.

When we'd finished he kissed me as he moved to get to his feet, and I tried to pull him back, but he explained he had to go, looking very sorry about it too. But a wicked smile came over his face as he spoke the next words.

"Ma petite, I am very sorry for publicly humiliating you the other day, but please understand your punishment still stands. If you leave the Court without permission you will get another spanking."

And leaving me too grumpy to reply, he kissed my pierced navel and went off to speak to his spies.

The dream still troubled me, though I would not tell Clopin about it, and in mass confusion, I went to Abigail to ask her advice.

"Chester would not eat a baby of mine, would he?" I asked her tearfully and she shook her head vigorously.

"No child, don't even let the thought in your head. He would know if you gave birth and protect your offspring with his life. What the dream tells me is you may be forced to make a choice between those you love most. Be careful, child."

It wasn't exactly good news, but it soothed the worst of my fears. I told her of my punishment and she laughed heartily.

"Oh I know about that!! And not through any hocus pocus either! That was all over the Court within five minutes of it happening!"

I blushed, fiercely humiliated, and later me and Colombine grumbled together over our confinement. When she laughed at the mental image of me being spanked I whacked her hard, and we both fixed Clopin with a death stare upon his coming back. He just laughed at us and shrugged as if to say, "well, what can I do?"

Colombine was mortified she wouldn't be able to see Frederick for awhile, and we had to beg Clopin to send word to Cosette to send word to Frederick that Colombine would not be able to see him for an indeterminate amount of time, Clopin laughing and refusing to say when our punishment would be lifted.

"'Indeterminate', marvellous!" Colombine grouched to me. "He'll think I'm not interested in him anymore."

"If he really cares for you, he will have faith," I tried to console her.

"Ha, it's not that! It's the fabric! The sex!" But I knew she cared about him. I'd only glimpsed the young man once or twice, and he was certainly quite good looking, although he seemed of a very Jean-Luc temperament - quiet and boring in other words, not someone I'd have chosen for her.

Louisa and Henriette, two of the young women who I'd saved from the clutches of the guards, extolled my virtues so vigorously to the other women that Isabelle's spite was rendered quite ineffectual, and they grudgingly accepted me as one of them, finally. I was pleased, though I pretended indifference, Colombine being still my favoured female companion. But I found their company useful at times, and it certainly enabled me to learn even more about the various families and goings on in the Court.

But on the whole I and Colombine now preferred to sulk within the Court on our own. Restless and bored we became quite unsociable, raining curses on Clopin's head as we idled on the stage, looking out over the Court. We were more than a little surprised one day when one of the little girls climbed the steps to approach us, looking nervous yet bold, her chin determined.

"Why, it's little Esmeralda!" I said recognising her. She was very pleased the Queen knew who she was, and flushed with pleasure.

"Salut, Your Highness," she said, giving me an awkward curtsy and I laughed merrily while Colombine grinned from the sidelines.

"Call me Herli, Esmeralda. Come over and sit with us then."

She did, delighted at being able to sit with the big girls, looking proudly down at her little friends who played below us.

"So what brings you to us, Esmeralda?" I asked her, as she blinked her beautiful eyes at us.

"Well, I just wanted to say that I think Clopin is a horrible meanie to lock you up in here."

We both of us moved closer to her then and praised her excellent taste highly.

"You're absolutely right, Esme. Absolutely. He's an awful bully. Don't ever let him tell you what to do," I told her.

"He stifles our feminine creativity, Esmeralda," Colombine confided in her. "He is a brute!"

"A brute amongst brutes!" I agreed.

Colombine snorted scornfully. "Don't listen to Herli's words too hard, Esmeralda. She says them all very vigorously now, but she'll still return quite happily to his bed tonight!"

I poked her. "Don't say such things to a small girl, you wicked woman!"

She shrugged. "It's true. She's better to listen to me. At least I mean it when I curse him."

Esmeralda giggled, thrilled to be our confidante. Rather shyly she spoke to me next. "I saw you tease the soldiers once, I thought you were very clever and funny. You were beautiful too."

I was now very fond of Esmeralda indeed and pulled her onto my lap. "Thank you, my little darling. You're a wonderful child. If only you could convince my husband it was so."

She smiled, then pouted and looked thoughtful. Colombine and I continued to banter with one another, continuing to idle the day away. Finally in a fit of boredom, I got up and began to dance, preferring it very much in the long flowing dress I wore. Esmeralda stood up and watched me happily and when I finished she clapped her hands, delighted.

"Oh I'd love to be able to dance like that!" she said joyfully. A thought struck me then and I exclaimed, "Well now, that gives me an idea!"

Colombine, who was outstretched with her chin in her hands, groaned and covered her face. "Oh no. You sound like Clopin when you say that!! What's the master plan, dare I ask?"

I laughed and skipped over to her. "Nothing dangerous. We'll just teach Esmeralda to dance!"

She looked a little interested at that, although not altogether convinced, but with mine and Esmeralda's pleading, she finally agreed. Esme was ecstatic. The lithe graceful little thing intrigued me, and Colombine and I filled our boring spare hours teaching her tricks and the beautiful rhythm of dance. She was an enchanting creature, with her large green eyes and curly black hair. Both of us could see she would become not only a great beauty but an exquisite dancer, and we joked with each other if perhaps we should cease her education, for fear it would take the limelight off us. Esmeralda's bold nature and sophisticated turn of phrase reminded me of myself as a child, but she had nothing of my haughtiness or conceit. She adored Chester, and longed for a pet of her own.

"I would teach him tricks to do with me," she told us, dreamily. I laughed, and remembered my own childhood days, teaching Chester. It was now far below his dignity to do tricks.

I had more or less forgotten my nightmare by now, although sometimes it would creep up on me during the day, catching me unawares. I kept shrugging it off, however, determined to ignore the feeling of dread it caused within me.

Colombine was right, I was very two-faced, for while I merrily insulted Clopin with her, I would still rush home to cook his dinner for him, or join him in bed, or just listen and talk with him. I loved for him to sing to me, letting that voice caress every inch of my body, it never ceased to arouse the same ecstatic flush in me it had the first day I heard it. He very quickly realised its power over me, and would use it whenever I began to be difficult, much to my despair.

Clopin told me that suspicions of spies had been re-awakened, following an attack on a gypsy caravan harbouring wanted thieves, and I thought with a start of Jean-Luc's continuously odd behaviour, and remembered too that Esmeralda had told me just that afternoon in childish innocence that she had seen Jean-Luc leaving Isabelle's tent, which was just near her mother's. I voiced my concerns to Clopin who said with a frown he doubted Jean-Luc was a traitor, but perhaps the matter was worth looking into.

-----

Thanks to my hard work my home was now a beautiful, comfortable clean haven and the envy of the other women. Clopin loved it, and I thought how proud my mother would be could she see it. I could think of my family without too much of a pang now, although it still hurt. I was careful not to neglect my magic studies, and continued to slave away at them. I knew I would never be as good as some of the witches in the court, but I could become very skilled if I worked hard. After my nightmare, I almost ceased the practice, but I changed my mind again, and kept on with it, learning various remedies and spells, and how to help influence a person's thoughts. Again, I practised using these with care. They were not necessary to everyday life, and so I kept them in check.

There were only a few people whose minds were closed to me - Abigail of course, being one of them and Isabelle another. This unsettled me because I didn't like the thought of her being so powerful. But as Clopin barely even noticed if she were around, I tried to not let it worry me. I was thrilled to observe I was the sole object of his gaze wherever we were, the only object of his passion, he told me willingly and with much enthusiasm. It wasn't as good as telling me he loved me, but to be the one woman he had to be with was a satisfying alternative.

It was around the middle of June that I felt some changes to my body. My breasts were tender, and swollen, my stomach felt unsettled. It being around the time my curse was due, I thought nothing much of it, and it wasn't until two weeks later I realised my time had not arrived. I hardly dared believe it was possible, not even when I spent the next several weeks throwing up of a morning, and feeling otherwise not very well. Clopin was in a panic and in typical over-dramatic fashion, thought I had been poisoned, as I still did not have the confidence to tell him what I thought it was. I finally agreed to let Abigail examine me and she chuckled happily at the end of it.

"You know what it is, don't you child?"

I nodded. "Well, at least I thought it might've been."

She held my hand tight, and her eyes were bright. "It is."

"What what?" Clopin asked, having refused to leave during my examination, hopping up and down. We both looked at him and then at each other and laughed.

"You laugh? You laugh at a time like this!?" he exclaimed, tearing at his hair. I sat up and pulled him into my arms, loving him more than ever at that moment.

"Times like this are usually occasion for joy!" I told him, resting my head happily against his chest. "You big oaf! Haven't you guessed? I'm going to have my babies!"

He only stared at me, stunned for a moment, before a large smile spread across his face.

"Really?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it himself.

I nodded, feeling femininely sentimental, and crying as I cupped his face in my hands and smiled at him. He kissed me passionately before giving a huge whoop of joy, gathering me very gently and carefully into his arms, before running out of the tent at full speed. I clutched his neck and laughed while he shouted for all to hear.

-----

An impromptu party was held in the centre that night, the entire court in extremely high spirits. Tante Marie bawled for joy, Colombine danced in a joyous frenzy, even Abigail left her tent, something she rarely did, to join in the festivities. Everyone was full of congratulations, and Clopin's chest was swelled to burst. He treated me as a precious doll, piling cushions high to give me a seat of honour, and getting everyone to drink to me - for getting pregnant so quickly he joked. But when he leaned over to kiss me he whispered he just needed a good excuse to throw a party for me, and I let myself believe for a change it was love I saw in his eyes.

He insisted on carrying me back to the tent, and when he laid me down on the bed, I saw the usual fire of desire in his eyes, but he turned away from me, swallowing deeply. I laid a hand on his and told him Abigail had said it would be safe until the fifth month, and he turned back eagerly and happy, though he controlled himself more than usual, being incredibly gentle and tender. Yet even at this controlled pace it was some of the most intense and passionate lovemaking we'd yet had, and I knew instinctively that the joy over the babies was more than satisfaction at the procuring of heirs, we were both of us thrilled to have made something together, something in this way.

In his happiness, Clopin lifted Colombine's punishment from her, and she thanked me happily for getting pregnant before darting off to become reacquainted with her darling Frederick. I, on the other hand, was told I must stay under, Clopin didn't want me getting sick.

"It's the middle of summer!" I exclaimed, disbelieving. He just shook his head stubbornly. In the end I didn't mind so much. The pregnancy was hard on me with morning sickness that often left me weak for much of the day. It also gave me opportunity to work baby clothes, and Clopin demanded other colours besides red. I knew I was having twins, but I didn't know if they would be male or female, and so made plenty of both kinds. Clopin pulled an exaggerated grimace when he saw the little girl's clothes that were beginning to evolve under my hands.

"You're not having boys?" he asked in dismay.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I have to be prepared for both, love. Don't worry. My mother had lots of boys. Probably I will too."

He cheered up at that, and pulled my sewing from my hands, kneeling before me, his face alight with eagerness.

"I have a little gift for you, my love," he said to me, happily. "It's extremely special. You have to love it forever."

I laughed. "I will always love anything you give me, no matter what it is."

He kissed me, and withdrew a little box from the hidden pockets in his clothes. He thought a minute, then pulled his gloves off, the smooth brown skin of his large hands pleasing me to look at, as his elegant fingers fumbled with the latch on the box.

"This is a gift of love from me to you," he informed me, and my heart leapt. "So both my flesh and yours must touch it."

Opening the box, he withdrew something on a slender gold chain and I gasped in pleasure. It was a pendant of a full gold sun and a sickle moon, joined together. Catching it in my hands and looking at it closely, I realised the gold and silver were genuine. It was prettily engraved, and although very simple, polished highly so it shone and sparkled, and the craftsmanship was excellent. I held it in my hands, admiring it, and Clopin pointed out for me:

"You see, the sun and the moon. Man and woman. Different as the times they inhabit, but in eternal harmony and rhythm. Do you like it?"

"Oh Clopin, it's beautiful!" I sighed, beginning to cry. My emotions were in turmoil since becoming pregnant and there was little I could to do to stop them. "It's the nicest thing I've ever been given! I could die!"

He chuckled gently, enjoying playing the hero; he kissed the pendant, then pressed it to my lips for me to kiss and fastened the chain around my neck.

"Here, don't cry, you adorably silly woman," he soothed me, his breath warm and sweet on my neck, and in another sudden swing I kissed him passionately, my arms strong about his waist.

-----

There was only one woman in the whole of the Court who did not seem pleased at my situation, and I've no doubt you've already guessed her name. Still, Isabelle made a good pretence of it one day, bringing over a picnic hamper laden with food and asking if I cared to lunch with her.

I could only stare at her dumbly for a moment, completely disbelieving the request. Her sly cat's smile on its own told me there had to be more to it than a friendly lunch, but her mind and heart (if she had one) were, as always, impenetrable.

"Why?" I asked her finally, suspiciously. She shrugged, not put off by my attitude.

"Because I've been simply awful to you. It's time I realised my place and made amends."

I knew as well as she did that this was rubbish, so I continued to stare coldly at her. She smiled, seeing my apathy, and retracting nothing added, "As well as that, I have some very interesting things to talk to you about. Things you'll want to hear."

It was pure curiosity that made me lay aside my sewing and prepare to go out. I knew this woman bore me nothing but ill will, but I wanted to see what she had to say. I checked to make sure Clopin was nowhere near about to forbid me from going, although I was sure he'd left to perform today, and got dressed in an outdoor dress quickly.

Joining Isabelle, I was surprised to find Chester follow me. He knew he couldn't leave the Court unless I said so. But following his gaze, I realised what had attracted him. He was staring daggers at Isabelle who looked at his large snarling mouth with as much apprehension as I'd ever seen her show. The three of us stood in front of my tent, I looking from the noble cat to the sly cat in human clothing, they looking at each other, the one in dislike the other in fear. Chester didn't trust Isabelle, that much was clear, and I praised him inwardly his animal instincts and obvious good taste. I moved forward to join her nonetheless, and Chester broke his gaze to press against me beseechingly.

I turned to him, cupping his handsome furry face in my hands. "My darling, you're right to not trust this girl," I whispered to him softly. "But do not fear. I'll be fine, I promise. I'll eat none of her food. Go back to the tent now."

But he refused to go. Instead he sat down firmly on his haunches and watched us as we left. I bade her make sure the latch on the door was fastened securely; I wasn't sure he could resist the temptation to follow me. I should've checked it myself.

Isabelle and I walked in silence, not even pretending civility, until we came to the same bridge Clopin and I had sat under often. Here the sly cat stopped and set her basket down. The day was humid, the wind still and hot. I noticed, as I had a few times before, that Isabelle had put on a considerable amount of weight. She didn't strike me as the type who would allow herself to get fat, but there it was. Perhaps Clopin's rejection had depressed her. I settled myself down on the soft grass also, and we observed each other for a few moments, as she laid out the food. I refused what she offered me and she laughed.

"It isn't poisoned. Like I said, I wanted only to talk."

"So talk."

She munched her bread and cheese, looking at me thoughtfully, her older, darker face aglow with malice that was as much a part of her expression as her pouting lips. She swallowed and then spoke.

"So this child you bear, it is Clopin's isn't it?"

I bristled inwardly, but was careful to keep my outward demeanour as calm and indifferent as hers. "It would be no-one else's."

She smiled. "So you two finally got around to it, then? Just as well. Any longer and he'd be mine as we speak."

If there had been any pretence to begin with it dissipated entirely now. Boldly, I picked up a slice of the bread and cheese, and chewed it as she did. When I finished I spoke to her.

"Two words, my dear." I leaned in close and breathed in her face, "You wish."

A small flicker in her eyes. "Do I?"

I took another bite. "Yes. Clopin doesn't even look at you now. Half the time he doesn't notice you're there."

Another small flicker. "I have to commend you on that spell."

"I don't need spells to hold a man's attention."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"Maybe so. But it is true what I said you know. It's fortunate you gave in when you did. I know you wondered how I knew about the situation. Well, I'll tell you. I used no magic. Clopin himself told me."

I swallowed hard around the crusty bread. The sun was hot on my head. "Clopin wouldn't do that."

"Oh, wouldn't he? He told me, my dear. Told me he was going mad with a frigid wife. That he didn't know how much longer he could stand it."

She was watching me careful, but keeping her voice expressionless. I finished my food, and then dusted my hands free of the crumbs.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth. I told him right then and there I'd be happy to relieve his tension. He said he couldn't do that to you, betray you like that. I said no betrayal as such was necessary, there are other ways to get around it. And he let me do just that."

I narrowed my eyes, my heart thudding within my chest, and I tried desperately to keep a hold on my emotions. "Did he now? What did you do, sing him a lullaby?"

She laughed nastily. "No, my methods are a little more advanced than that. I just got down on my knees, pulled his hose down, opened my mouth and - "

"You're a liar!" I snapped. "I don't believe you!"

"Fine. Why don't you ask that big husband of yours then? If it's any consolation, it was your name he called out. A blow to me, but what can you do? I was just happy to give him some satisfaction."

I looked at her, my heart racing out of control. It was impossible to tell if she was lying or not. It was all I could do to remain seated, and not fly at her. Telling myself her satisfaction over any attack I made was not enough, I had to remind myself of the babies in my belly. She grinned at me like the cat that got the cream, and I took a hasty sip of the wine. I swallowed hard, and got to my feet, wandering to the water's edge, clutching my new pendant in one hand.

She had to be lying. There's no way she could be telling the truth. How could I know? By asking Clopin. I turned to look back at her, and she was packing the things up quietly. She looked at me calmly. Surely no-one who lied could be quite so blasé about it. What if she told the truth?

While I wrestled with my inner confusion, an enraged roar grabbed both our attention. The shouts and screams of panicked Parisians rose in the air, followed by another all too familiar roar.

"Chester!" I cried in a panic, and heedless of my condition, started off at full pelt, running towards the noise, back the way we came. A crowd had gathered in the street near the exit we used, and I realised that the bitch must've left the latch unfastened, that he had followed us, that –

Another roar, this one of pain. I continued running forward, struggling to see over the crowd. I saw that there were soldiers preparing their arrows and I gave a distraught cry, shoving people aside, getting shoved violently in the process. I glimpsed my oldest friend then, and saw to my horror that there were three arrows in him already, one in his leg, one in his back and the other in his belly. I screamed out in anguish, my despair drowned amidst the screams of the other panicked women. I knew for a fact that prior to being attacked Chester would not have been vicious. He was used to people! But now, in his pain and confusion, he was snarling viciously, on his guard and the soldiers were shoving the crowds back.

I backed into an alleyway and went over my options anxiously. My hesitation was all due to what I carried within me. If I ran out, I could subdue him, but what would happen then? Would I be arrested? Why would they arrest me? They couldn't harm me anyway I was a pregnant woman! I also couldn't let Chester die. They say your life flashes before your eyes as you die - my life with Chester flashed before me then. A lifetime of memories and shared adventures. I bit down hard on my finger, trying to hold back my screams, drawing blood. I heard the soldiers release their arrows and another cry of pain from my friend made my mind up for me. I ran forward, again trying to fight my way through the crowds, when suddenly I was yanked to the side. I was shocked to see Clopin, in performance dress, holding me firmly. I fought him viciously, kicking and biting down on the hand that held me, but he put both arms around me and dragged me to the side.

"You can't save him!" he gasped as another kick hit its mark.

"I can save him! Let me go, let me go you monster! Don't you dare do this!"

But he wouldn't let go. He held me tightly in the alley, trying to calm me. I screamed again and again.

"Think of your babies!" he whispered. "They'll arrest you, Herli. You're a gypsy with a wild beast. Herli, think please!"

"You save him then!!" I demanded and at that moment we heard the sound of more arrows rushing through the air and another roar. I screamed again, and renewed my struggles, sobbing violently.

"Save him, you must save him!" I punched at his face with my one free arm.

"I can't" he whispered to me sadly. "It's too late by now. They'll kill him and then arrest me for trying to help."

"No! Save him, go and save him now!!"

But already there was silence descending over the crowd as the soldiers held their fire. I struggled with Clopin so I could run out and look, see what had happened, but still the bastard held me back.

"Herli, you shouldn't see that," he said, sounding for all the world like he was sorry. "Please, my love, come now. They'll destroy what's left. There's nothing we can do."

I pushed him away, trying to break his grip, but he hauled me away. I fought as we went, sobbing and trying to run back. Finally, exhausted from my efforts, I could do nothing more but slump against him.

Then we were back in the Court, and me heart was a cold weight within my chest. I knew there was no hope now. Clopin carried my weary body back to the tent undressed me for bed, leaving me in my chemise. His face was sorrowful as he leaned over me, but I shoved him away, hitting him and crying.

"I'll never forgive you this!" I screamed at him. I tore the pendant from my neck, cutting the skin and not noticing, and threw it at him savagely. "NEVER!"

I buried my head beneath the pillows and knew nothing more for many hours.

-----

For days I was inconsolable, spending all my time crying. I couldn't sleep and I felt ill at the thought of food. Tante Marie and Colombine urged me to eat, reminding me of my babies, but I couldn't keep it down. I didn't speak either, unless it was to Clopin, and then only to curse him or throw insults at him. Always the thought that went around my head was that I hesitated too long, and in doing so, had killed my oldest friend.

I was quite willing to lay blame on Clopin as well, for holding me back, and not trying to do anything. I didn't let him touch me, and would scream if he came too near. His face became dejected and miserable as I continued to assault him with everything I had, but so wound up in my grief was I that I could not bring myself to forgive him.

"He was my oldest friend, my one link to India and the people I loved there!" I lamented to Clopin after he had once again tried to console me. He buried his head in my lap and sighed.

"And you killed him! You let him die, you monster! You didn't even try!"

He sighed again and didn't reply. He had already told me a dozen times why he hadn't tried, but for me it would never be good enough.

"I'm so sorry, cherie. I know how much you loved him - "

"Don't call me cherie!" I shrieked, pushing his head away "Don't call me anything! Don't touch me, don't look at me!!"

And I cried again as he left the tent sadly.

I didn't even have Chester's body to mourn. The one thing that had made the transition of life with me was gone, gone forever, like my parents and brothers. They were all no more. I was once again entirely on my own, too unhappy to take comfort from my husband and friends here.

After a couple of weeks I was able to hold food down again and I ate a little at Abigail's pleading. I had lost much weight and she feared that damage had been done to my babies. At that point I didn't care much. I thought of them as worms Clopin had implanted in my belly, and told him as much as he looked at me with a stricken expression.

I was only partly aware of how much I was hurting his feelings with my constant insults. It seemed as though I had rejected him, his friendship and love, entirely, and it wounded him to the quick. The change of attitude to him was so abrupt and violent he barely knew how to take it, and mindful of both my pregnancy and grief he was reluctant to fight back.

They all tried to get me to forgive him. Tante Marie scolded and bullied me, but I threw pillows at her until she left. Colombine reminded me of the fun we'd had before, but it only made me cry. Abigail reminded me of the way I had adored him and then of my dream.

"I know what the dream means now!" I snapped at her." I saw it happen as the soldiers butchered him."

She shook her head. "No, no child. That was only part of it. Now the real choice begins - what are you going to do? Let your children wither within you because of a dead tiger, or are you going to nourish them as he would've done? Chester would've mourned your death, but had he young of his own he would have returned all his attention to them. He would know that the dead are dead, and while you may have grief, it should not be at the expense of the others you love."

I sniffed miserably to myself. It was August now, and as yet my pregnancy was not noticeable. I laid a hand on my stomach and cried more as I thought of my children and my tiger. I admitted to myself I did not want to lose my babies. Abigail smiled at me, knowing what I was thinking.

"Try not to be so hard on him, love. Your unhappiness is all the punishment he needs. Try to forgive him."

But that I still could not do. I saw he had had my pendant mended, but he did not try to give it to me. He continued to look at me sorrowfully, but he would not try to speak to me as I turned my face away from him. I blocked him off, telling him nothing of how I felt. I would now speak only to Colombine and Abigail, ignoring the others who left their sympathies with me. Chester's death was treated much as a mortal's would be, and the other Romani dropped around gifts of food, leaving their messages with Clopin who related them to me while I lay, pulling my hand from his and not speaking.

After a while, as my tears slowly froze on my cheeks and my eyes dried out, I remembered Isabelle and her part in that day's events.

"Is that witch still here?" I deigned to ask Clopin one day when he came in to get changed. He was rarely in the tent anymore, as I made it too difficult for him. I think he would like to have stayed with me, but I kept throwing him out, refusing to allow him to offer me any comfort. He looked over at me in surprise and asked softly who I meant.

"Isabelle, who do you think? It was she that caused it you know. He followed us because of her. And she left the latch off. She did it deliberately."

My voice had risen and finished on a hysterical note. He moved forward to hush me and I slapped him away.

"Well, aren't you going to punish me? After all, I left the Court without permission. Don't I get a spanking?" I asked him viciously, and he sat by my side helplessly and did not answer. "I know what you think, you think it's all my fault. That if I hadn't left it would never have happened!"

He sighed "Of course I don't think that, my love. It wasn't your fault. Yes, Isabelle is still here."

"I want her to go! I want her out today, now! I want her banned!"

He looked at me. "I can't send her away at the moment, Herli. It's a bit of a delicate time and - "

"What do you mean? Of course you can! I tell you I want her gone. Or do you need her to help relieve tension?" I asked him bitterly. He looked at me, confused, and I burst out, "she told me all about what you let her do to you before!! She told me how you told her about us!! She told me everything."

He stood up, looking unsettled and even more unhappy. But he denied nothing, and I started to cry again.

"So it's true then is it? I should've known."

He reached for me. "Herli - "

"Get out of my sight!" I sobbed and turned away from him.

-----

The worst of my grief passed, and I became mindful of what I carried within me again. I got out of bed eventually and bathed thoroughly, changing for the first time in weeks. My legs were weak from lying around so much, and at first I hobbled around. My heart was still cold, and I felt no desire to smile or do much of anything in fact. I walked sullenly down to Colombine's tent, paying no heed to those I passed as they looked at me worriedly from the corners of their eyes. Colombine gave a gasp to see me, and ran out to meet me and bring me inside.

"Herli, you're up! Thank goodness!"

I didn't say anything, just pouted, as she brushed the hair from my face and looked at my sympathetically.

"You poor thing. Everything is all happening at once to you. Look, Tante Marie and I have been helping you," and she showed me proudly the baby clothes they had made. I cried as I looked at them and thanked her softly. She made a medicinal tea, and I drank it gratefully, although its taste was bitter and strong. It eased some of my inner discomfort, and I calmed down. She sat with me and filled me in on all the gossip that had happened while I had locked myself away. I could only listen, showing no emotion, unable to even smile.

I was told that Esmeralda had created a dance she called the Dance of the White Tiger in Chester's honour, and that the little girl was unhappy I stayed away; and, touched, I cried again. Colombine tried to stick to cheerier news after that, but little had happened. In fact things were bad once more. Frollo had apparently decided the white tiger had been sent from the gypsies to destroy him and things were worse than ever for the Romani on the streets of Paris. Completely disheartened, I got up and left her with no further words.

Clopin was awaiting me anxiously when I got back and rushed forward to clasp me in his arms, holding me tight. I didn't respond but I didn't push him way. I had not forgiven him as yet, but I was going to force myself to be somewhat civil. He told me he had worried and I replied dully that I had been with Colombine. He sat me down looking at me anxiously, then forced a smile.

"I've brought you a present," he told me. "I saw it and knew it was for you, so I had to get it for you."

I remembered with an aching heart how I had said such similar words to him often, only a short while ago when I had been earning all my money. It seemed like a dream now, unreal, as though it had never really happened in our world.

He gestured to a new large carved chest I had not yet noticed in one corner of the tent. He pulled me gently to my feet and led me over. When I got closer I saw that it was carved with unicorns, beautiful inlays of wood and mother of pearl highlighting it strategically. It was exquisite and as I looked at it I began to cry again, for seeing it made me realise I still loved Clopin as much as I ever did. He pulled me fretfully into his arms, trying to soothe me, and I let him, but still I did not respond. I made my heart remain cold within me as he told me I could move my things into the new chest and use the other for the babies' things. That is, he added falteringly, if I wanted to.

I just nodded and pulled myself away from him.

-----

That evening I followed him to the Court Centre, and when he realised this he turned back and made me let him take my hand, asking me if I was sure I wanted to come. I just nodded again and kept walking.

I was greeted heartily when I got there, the other Romani being very glad to see me out and about again. I just nodded to them all, beginning to feel like a jack in the box, and sat down, as Clopin put a protective arm around me. I was oblivious to the jokes and music of those gathered there, my mind wandering down my path of memories. But I was roused by a familiar perfume and looked up to the evil Isabelle, she being very careful to not look at me.

My eyes wandered hatefully over her body, and I noticed her stomach bulged larger than ever. I realised with my heart in my throat just then that she was pregnant, and heavily into it as well. Could it be Clopin's? But the last they lay together was January. She'd be almost into her ninth month now - unless - unless when she'd rejoined us in March she'd done more with Clopin than she said she had. My eyes widened looking at her, and then I glanced sharply at Clopin who was staring at me in dismay. I got unsteadily to my feet and walked quietly back to the tent. He came with me of course, but we didn't speak until we got back. Once there, the feeling of numbness that had washed over me washed off again and with an agonized scream I shoved at him angrily. He caught my hands and said to me desperately:

"Herli, it's from January I swear! I'm not even sure it's mine, truly! She only claims that it is."

"Well, we'll know soon enough, won't we?" I snapped at him.

He sighed and released me.

"That's why I can't ask her to leave. I can't throw her out while she's pregnant!! We don't need to match her for heartlessness."

"And what if it isn't from you in January? What if, say it's from you in March?"

He knelt down before me and looked into my eyes. "I swear it's not. I never lay with her after we married. You have to believe me. I would tell you if we had. I made a mistake confiding in her then, but she made me remember how she'd been before when she could comfort me."

"By getting down on her knees?" I snapped, crying again.

He shook his head. "No, no, it wasn't just that. It was a mistake. I didn't make it again. I don't even like her anymore. I want her to leave too, but I can't make her just yet. Please believe me."

I did believe him then, but I didn't forgive him. I couldn't allow myself to now. My heart had already been broken twice in my short life, and was in serious danger of becoming so again at that moment. I realised then that if I were to get through the next months I would have to keep him locked out from me. So my cold attitude continued towards him, although I began to leave the tent more and socialised a little. I didn't feel like it one little bit, but I was determined to keep up with Isabelle's going-ons. She wisely did not gloat over her state, for it wasn't just I who bore her greater resentment than ever.

I moved my things from my old chest and into my new, which was beautifully fitted with compartments and locking drawers. I put my pendant into one of these, crying as I did so for a reason I could not altogether place.

I put all of the baby clothes into my old chest, and found some small solace in their delicateness. My stomach was just beginning to bulge when Isabelle had her child.

The women of the Court helped her out of concern for the child, although they did not wish to. I sat in my tent the whole time and listened to her screams with satisfaction. I hoped she would die giving birth, but I did not have the luck. When Colombine told me she had borne a girl I released my breath in a long sigh of relief I had not realised I was holding.

The baby was fairly dark-skinned with black hair. Like all babies its eyes were blue at birth, Colombine told me. It remained to be seen what colour they would be, so it was as yet not entirely possible to tell the child's father.

Clopin was a little more settled now that I had stopped attacking him at every approach, but he was still unhappy I shrugged away from his touch and did not seek his company like I had used to. Apart from that, so fierce had the soldier's attack been on renegade Romani that many of the men within the Court were making sure they were armed at all times. Tension was running high.

The greater majority of the Romani believed Clopin should not have anything to do with Isabelle and her child. They told me he should only worry about me and the children we were to have, and there was no way Isabelle could prove the baby's paternity. But Clopin had a greater responsibility than that, and held the child in his arms when she bade him to, looking down at it in confusion. He told me that once he would not have cared had she had a dozen of his children, but now he was mindful of how he would want a man to treat me if I were ever in her situation. I just raised my eyebrow at him and was quietly insulted that he had ever considered I could be in her position. She was now openly isolated from the rest of us, but did not seem to care. She guarded her baby carefully, looking at me smugly as I went about my duties woodenly.

I ignored her, indeed I more or less ignored everyone. Time passed and my belly swelled painfully. I let Colombine and Abigail do with me as they wished, feeding me and forcing various medicines down my throat. I didn't speak much, just sat and listened quietly, sewing or painting, something new I had taken up. Clopin wanted to indulge me and procured paints and white sheets for me to paint on, but I was closed off to him still. In the beginning it was difficult, especially when he looked at me so sadly and wishfully, but as time passed I was numb all over and it didn't seem to matter what happened.

I never left the Court anymore, not only due to my grief, but also because of my delicate situation. My lower back ached painfully, and so did my feet. I wanted to continue sleeping on Chester's pillows of a night, but Clopin made me take the bed, indulgently arranging the pillows for me until I was comfortable every night, and still I wouldn't kiss him. I knew Abigail had told him my emotions were in turmoil because I was with child, and I knew also he was trying to believe that was all it was.

Colombine brought me news of how the weather had changed and it was getting on to winter. I had a passing regret I had missed autumn, but it left me as quickly as it came. The Court was warm and comfortable always, I had no idea what the weather was like above us.

I did notice however, that Jean-Luc's continuously strange attitude had grown. I never saw him without a look of anxiety on his face, but did not feel the old curiosity about it. Colombine brought me the news that he had befriended Isabelle, and somehow, I wasn't surprised. Five gypsies were hung in November, the guard on the Palace of Justice having so been increased that it was impossible for Clopin and his men to free them.

Many of the Romani were convinced there were spies amongst us now - but who they were no-one could say. Everyone seemed to know everyone so well it was practically impossible to point at anyone and say that this one or that was a traitor.

Clopin came in one evening and sat down at the table, sighing heavily and burying his face in his hands. In a moment of clarity I knew he felt he had failed his people and failed me. I wanted to comfort him, but instead I rolled over on the bed and turned my face to the wall. He had grown thinner and paler, fine lines appearing on his face. He was no longer full of the boundless energy that had suffused him with life before, now he seemed weary and older than he really was. He was no longer the Clopin we all knew, and even in my self-absorbed state, I worried about him with the others.

-----

It was in December when a great many things were explained. In the previous weeks I had observed Jean-Luc watching mine and Clopin's estrangement from each other with misery, and his face was in a state of confusion and stress at all times. By now I was fed up with the attitude and couldn't even arouse mild concern for him, so I was greatly surprised when he came to our tent on evening, the hat I had given him in his hands, his expression more certain and determined than I had seen in a long time. I saw that Clopin, who had been painting a new puppet at his table, was surprised to see him also. He rose, and invited the young man in, offering him a chair, as I watched them both coldly from the bed.

Jean-Luc refused the seat, shaking his head. "I'm only stopping for a moment. You will not want me here when I have told you, but I have made up my mind to deal with whatever comes. There is something you must know."

I was interested now, and so was my husband, looking at Jean-Luc suspiciously. I realised from his look that Clopin had been uncertain of Jean-Luc's loyalties. The young man took a deep breath and looked from one to the other of us.

"I know who the spy in the Court is. I've not betrayed any of you, but I suppose that doesn't matter much now. I still let her get away with it for far too long."

"Isabelle." Clopin said coldly and Jean-Luc nodded.

"Yes, but there's more than even you think. You know she walks on the border, she's not a gadje, but she's not truly one of us either. Her loyalties lie only with herself. That is what has allowed her to do as she has done, and she became determined to destroy you, or at least ruin your life.

"The baby she has is not yours. After she left the Court the last time she followed down her usual path and ingratiated herself with one of the wealthy men in Paris. The baby is his. You've probably noticed she keeps the baby hidden from us at all times. That is because its parentage is clearly written on its face. She took a drug to induce her labour and so make you believe the child truly is yours. She could've claimed she became pregnant by you after returning to the Court, and ruined your marriage that way, but she knew that you would know the truth of it."

Clopin's face had become a deeply-etched mask of anger, his fists clenched shut on the table as he looked at Jean-Luc intently.

"She's determined to make you suffer before she hands you over to the soldiers. She wants to see your life fall apart for being the one man to completely reject her."

"And what part have you played in all this, Jean-Luc?"

"Like I said, I never betrayed anyone to the soldiers. But I have been guilty of being an accessory to her plans. I did not want to, but I felt trapped. She knew somehow about the man I had killed by accident before in my old life - I suppose it doesn't matter who knows it now. Also it was as though she put a spell over me. I felt hopelessly attracted to her. I couldn't resist her. It was I who started the rumours of the child being yours, Clopin, and I passed encoded messages on. If I had known what the messages truly said I wouldn't have done it. Also - Herlikin - I'm sorry - it was I who let your tiger out."

"NO!" I screamed and tried to jump off the bed to lunge for him. Clopin swiftly leapt to my side to hold me back. Throughout his little speech I had listened in astonishment, but this last was too much. Weakened and sluggish from the swollen belly, my struggles with Clopin were ineffectual and I gave way to tears. Clopin glared at the traitor who gulped, but continued:

"I didn't think he would be killed."

"Well, what did you think would happen?" Clopin asked him dryly.

He trembled. "I don't know. I didn't know. I just did it."

"Because you were under a spell, of course." Clopin's voice was full of sarcasm. "But however did you break this spell to come and tell us all this?"

Jean-Luc's lip quivered and he shook his head helplessly. "I couldn't stand it any longer. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was weak. I couldn't stand to see you and Herli so unhappy - your people took me in and accepted me when I was a wanted man. I couldn't keep betraying you. I'll accept punishment gladly. But before it happens, there's more you should know."

"More?" Clopin said bitterly." Could it get any worse?"

Jean-Luc nodded. "The wealthy man who Isabelle remains a mistress to - it is Frollo."

The two of us stared at him in shock; neither of us could believe what he had said. Clopin stood up slowly, his expression grim, releasing me, as Jean-Luc took a nervous step back. Clopin strode forward and punched him hard. Jean-Luc fell, and Clopin grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out with him. I rolled off the bed and followed clumsily. Clopin was shouting for the others to fetch Isabelle and the child and bring it to the Centre. Intrigued, the Romani who didn't run to do this followed us as we went to the Centre, watching Clopin in some astonishment as he dragged Jean-Luc up on the stage. Jean-Luc's face was the very picture of misery.

Clopin turned to him angrily and asked if there were anyone else in the Court who was a traitor. Jean-Luc shook his head, his shoulders sagging in defeat, and then some of the men were dragging Isabelle up between them, she fighting all the way, screaming, and knowing she had been caught. One of the women carried her child with her, and brought it up on the stage to show Clopin. He looked at it for a moment, closely and then nodded. I found out later that the baby's eyes were brown and not blue, or black as Clopin's were. Had the eyes been blue, then perhaps he could've believed it was his, as Isabelle had blue eyes. But more than that, the baby's skin was pale, and the hair which had been black at first, as babies' hair commonly was, had now become a very light brown. There was very little of the Romani on the baby's face, and Clopin's Romany blood was so strong it would surely have shown itself.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Pulling Isabelle mercilessly by her chestnut hair as she shrieked, and Jean-Luc by his collar, he pulled them to the front of the stage and threw them both down. Then he addressed his people.

"For some time now, friends, we have suspected each other of the worst kind of treachery. You'll be glad to know that these spies have been caught and will now be justly punished. You can see them before me now, one of our own, and one we took into our care!!"

An angry murmur arose from the crowd as they glared at Isabelle and Jean-Luc. Isabelle was weeping angrily, screaming curses at those who insulted her, but Jean-Luc remained silent. I would've felt some sympathy for him had I not known it was his fault my oldest friend had died. I could only stare at him hatefully now.

"Now, the very "noble" Jean-Luc," Clopin said with much sarcasm, "came gallantly forward to tell me the truth." Isabelle hissed at Jean-Luc with venom. "Furthermore, he pledged much regret and humble apologies at his folly and told us he would gladly accept the punishment he has so rightly earned himself."

The crowd cheered, incensed and hungry for their blood. Clopin held up a hand, and I could see the old flamboyance had come back for a while. His voice was dangerously light-hearted and righteous as he continued.

"I, however, saw through this false regret. Jean-Luc was a coward as a gadje, he is still a coward now he is Romany. Jean-Luc told me the truth in an effort to save his immortal soul, and hopes we will now kill him quickly so he doesn't have to live with his crime. I have decided therefore, that we will allow Jean-Luc to live and warn all our people that he is a treacherous coward. This way he shall be outcast wherever he goes.

"Furthermore!" Here Clopin leapt lightly to the side of the woman who held Isabelle's child. He plucked it gently from her arms, then carried it over to Jean-Luc and thrust it into his. "He will be given the charge of this bastard, who you'll all be pleased to know bears no blood of mine nor any other Romany!"

They gave a great cheer at that, very pleased indeed.

"If it ever falls upon the ears of any Romany that this child dies, then we shall hunt Jean-Luc down like a dog and punish him accordingly - as we will if he ever shows his face in France again - and the punishment won't include death!" he said with menacing mirth, leaning down to leer in Jean-Luc's face, who looked back at him in terror. "Now go!!"

Jean-Luc obeyed hastily, running down from the stage, clutching the baby to him, followed by the hateful glare of hundreds of Romani, to pack his things and leave.

Clopin then turned to Isabelle menacingly, and she gazed back at him fearfully. The only thing Isabelle held sacred was her own life, it was the one thing she wanted to keep. And Clopin knew it. Grabbing her again by the hair, he turned her face to the crowd.

"This one, who has always lived amongst us as one of our own, not only has she been conspiring with soldiers against her own people, but she has taken as a lover none other than our worst adversary - Judge Claude Frollo!"

The crowd roared in outrage and glared at her in hatred. She spat at them but was not above pleading for a punishment similar to Jean-Luc's. But Clopin ignored her.

"For years now she has been the poison in our wine. The only way to rid ourselves from it is to tip the bottle out. Completely. Come now, my dear," he continued as she struggled with him. "Do you know, your neck is not long enough for all those pretty baubles the Judge bribed you with! Let's see if we can't remedy that."

So Isabelle was hauled to the noose, shrieking for mercy all the way, but Clopin's face was indifferent to it, and the anger of the crowd could not be pacified. The lever was pulled, and she fell through the trapdoor, her neck breaking, her legs twitching, her face turning red then purple from the blood. I watched dispassionately, feeling nothing, then turned and went back to my tent.

-----

After that things lightened considerably within the Court. The immediate threat to our people was lifted, and no doubt Frollo guessed what had happened to his evil mistress. As Jean-Luc had not been one of us, and Isabelle was never truly considered to be, the sense of betrayal was not so great as it would've been had it been others.

Clopin cheered up a great deal, and relaxed now that the problem had been fixed. Of course we still had to fear from the guards, but there was no-one to tip them off anymore. But we were still distanced from each other, and I wondered if we would ever be able to go back to where we had been. I thought always of my babies and of Chester, and my absent family. Once again I wept bitterly for them and wished I had never left India.

-----

In late December Clopin and some of the men began to prepare for the Feast of Fools. They spent a great deal of time looking for the last Festival's King of Fools.

"Didn't anyone write his name down?" Clopin asked in exasperation, and the others shrugged. Few of them could write. Apparently this happened every year. Everyone was so busy getting drunk and making merry the King was crowned and then lost.

The gypsy men spent some time looking through the taverns for ugly drunk men. They eventually brought one back, so inebriated he barely knew where he was, and grinned at us all through bleary eyes.

"Excellent!" Clopin exclaimed. "Are you sure it's him?"

The others shrugged. So did Clopin. "Oh well, it doesn't really matter. Just make sure you don't lose him before the day. Whack a crown on him in the morning. No-one will remember the face from last January anyway."

When they left Clopin turned to me, smiling his large toothy smile which had become a considerably rarer sight in recent months.

"I'm sorry you'll be missing the Festival. It's one of the best times of the year."

I shrugged. Once I would've been furious I could not go above and watch Clopin performing, and the streets of Paris filled with people merrymaking, but right then I couldn't care. The smile fell from his face when he saw my indifference, and he left the tent silently to go to the tavern.

Many times I worried I did not feel closer to the babies I carried within me. I wondered how I would cope when it eventually came time for them to be born. But I did not voice my concerns to anyone, not even Abigail and Colombine, who still cared for me as though I were a child.

The Festival came and went, and I was practically the only one left in the Court on that day. I had stubbornly refused to allow anyone to watch over me and Clopin had buried his head in my lap and apologised that he couldn't stay. But I knew he had to lead the ceremonies. I just shrugged and said it didn't matter. Nonetheless he returned earlier than anyone else and earlier than ever before, as he usually spent the next two days after the festival drinking in the tavern with the other men.

I couldn't help but appreciate the consideration, and I let him hold my hand. I almost wished then to forgive him and let things go back to the old way, but I hastily reminded myself it would come to no good and turned away again.

The weeks passed, and then it was our birthday and first wedding anniversary. I was not even aware it had happened, and I blearily wondered why Clopin presented me proudly with a beautiful silk dress and then told him I couldn't accept it as I had nothing for him. He'd laughed and said I certainly did, weren't they growing in my belly right at that moment? He put the dress away in my new chest, which I often spent hours looking at from the bed, and then lay down beside me, putting his hands on my big stomach, caressing it gently, and I let him, falling asleep quickly.

I grew rounder and rounder and more and more uncomfortable, barely able to leave the confines of the tent. My emotions were highly unstable, and changed constantly. Often I cried over whether all this discomfort would be worth it. Clopin, Abigail and Colombine told me pregnancy suited me very well, my skin was glowing and my hair was strong, my eyes bright. But I never looked in the glass now, and did not truly care either.

The last two months passed quickly, and the babies were due any day. Tante Marie and Abigail kept constant vigil by my side, and when my water broke they were ready for me.

Cushions and rugs were quickly laid out on the floor of the tent, and I was stripped and laid down. Water was put on to boil, and Colombine was fetched to wipe my forehead as the contractions grew closer together, and more painful. Clopin was firmly told to stay outside the tent, although he had tried to exert a Kingly order to be allowed to stay inside. It was to no avail. Tante Marie and he argued fiercely while Abigail checked my dilation, Tante saying it was not a man's place and Clopin arguing it was very much his place. Another contraction gripped me then and I screamed that he get out. He backed out, startled and even Tante looked at me in surprise at the ferocity of my voice.

My labour was mercifully quick, lasting no longer than two hours. I remembered my mother had told me she'd been in labour with me for only a half-hour. She often quipped it had been as "easy as shelling a pea". Mine may have been short, but it was exceedingly painful. I screamed, unable to hold it back, my body drenched in sweat, blood pouring from me, as they urged me to push.

Abigail exclaimed she could see a head, and with my entire body shuddering with the next push, the first of my children emerged. There was a pause, it opened its mouth, took its first breath of air and began to cry. I was vaguely aware of Clopin jumping up and down outside, shouting with mixed glee and concern. The cord was severed with a clean knife, and Abigail shouted triumphantly, "It's a boy!"

I fell back on the cushions, gasping for air. Tante Marie hastened the baby away to wash it in the tub of water nearby, and wrap it up. Abigail urged me to continue pushing.

"There's still another one to go, child, come on now!"

I turned my head fitfully on the pillows. "I've given him his damn boy, now why don't you leave me alone!! Let me here in peace!"

"Come on, keep pushing!"

"No, let me alone!"

"NOW, PUSH!"

I did so reluctantly, and within a few minutes I had pushed the second child from me. This one was a girl, I was told, and it too was hastened away to be cleaned and made ready for me.

My sweaty body was rubbed down, and the bloodied sheets removed and replaced. I tried to push them all away from me, but they wouldn't go. I was covered over and wrapped up, now that the hard work was over, my body feeling chilly. I gazed down at my shrunken stomach, so used had I become to the bulging one. Abigail asked me if I was ready to see the children and I cried out "no" and turned my head away. I wasn't sure yet how I felt. I was aware of a curiously empty feeling. Tante Marie and Colombine were sent away, I was barely aware of them, what they had done and said throughout the whole ordeal, and then Clopin bounded in, refusing to stay back any longer.

Abigail gave him the good news and he whooped for joy and quickly fell silent, aware of my exhausted state. I didn't look at him, just continued to stare at the wall, fingering the sheets wrapped around me, as I lay on the mound of cushions, still on the floor. Clopin went to the cradle the two had been placed in, looking down at them wonderingly. I saw him put a hand in to touch them, his face alight with love and joy, and I stifled a sob with my fist.

Abigail tugged at him and told him to help move me into the bed. When he reached down to pick him up I lashed out at him.

"Go away, don't you touch me!"

He jumped back, looking at me with a wounded expression. Abigail laid a hand on his and told him I was just feeling confused right then. I protested it, but he picked me up gently, and took me to the bed, kissing my forehead lovingly though I tried to push him away. He pulled the old sheets from around me, I stupidly trying to hide my naked body from him, and wrapped me up in more clean and comfortable linen. Then he went with Abigail to the tent flap, she spoke to him quietly for a few minutes, then she blew me a loving kiss and left us alone.

Clopin went eagerly to the cradle, picking up both tiny bodies in his great arms, easily holding them carefully, but I still felt a maternal leap of concern. He looked down at the two happily, from one to the other with more happiness than he'd shown in a long time. His eyes shone with love when he looked at me and I thought bitterly that if I had to have children before he could love me, then I didn't want to love him.

He sat down on the bed and cooed at our children. The worst of my temper had passed and I now had a curious desire to hold what I had nursed inside of me for nine months in my arms, so I sat up a little and tried to see their tiny faces. He looked from them to me again, his great beam of a smile reaching even my numbed heart.

"I made these?" he asked me. His wonderment touched me, and I wasn't so snappy when I answered.

"Not all by yourself, you didn't."

He chuckled and leaned over to kiss me. I let him, closing my eyes, and his lips seemed softer than I remembered them. It had been so long since our lips touched it reached in deeper than I meant it too, and I pulled back gently. He peered at me discerningly, trying to see what I was feeling, something he never used to have to expend effort to find out. Then he spoke to me.

"Abigail said they needed to be fed straight away. Do you think you're up to it?"

I hesitated, then nodded, and held out my arms. He hesitated as well and looked down at the children, the boy distinguished by a green blanket, the girl by a red one.

"Which would you like first?" he asked hopefully. I knew what he wanted, and thought I might as well oblige him.

"Oh hell, give me the boy," I said in a gentle grumble. He smiled and handed him over. I felt a surge of love I couldn't stop rush over me as I took the baby into my arms, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down at his perfect tiny little body, his tightly squeezed shut eyes. He smelt the scent of woman, and instinctively recognised the curves and bumps of the female figure, and opened and shut his mouth, his beautiful tiny fingers waggling. I pulled the sheet down, with a shy glance at my husband who hadn't seen me naked in eight months, and brought the babe's mouth to my breast. As he suckled I smiled and cried on him, rocking him gently in my arms, letting myself fill with all the love I could bear.

I'd just like to mention now that it wasn't preference for the boy child that made Clopin want me to suckle him first. I knew always he would adore them both equally, but men have such strange ideas. To Clopin's way of thinking, our little girl would grow up protected lavishly by us, and then she would marry a man who would look after and protect her. The boy on the other hand, would have to be strong enough to look after himself and his own wife and children. Clopin erroneously believed that feeding the boy first would give him extra strength. I humoured him, seeing as he carefully kissed our little girl lavishly all over her tiny face that she would never suffer rejection because of her sex. Clopin watched me as I fed the boy, his eyes wide in fascination and love, and he moved to sit next to me closer. He bent his head tenderly to my other breast, kissing me, and I closed my eyes and tried to fight back my feelings.

When the boy had finished, Clopin took him from me, wiping his mouth, and I brought the girl to me.

"What are we going to call them?" he asked me softly as I fed her. I shrugged, pretending I had not given it much thought, although I had.

"How about Harlan for him and Harlena for her?" I suggested. "In honour of your father."

He smiled pleasurably and kissed me again. "Yes I like that. I think it will do very well."

-----

The next few weeks were very busy for me. Newborns require constant care and love, and I lavished it on them unstintingly. Clopin was the joyous indulgent father, and it took him a few days to realise my attitude to him remained cold.

"Why do you have to repeatedly break my heart?" he whispered to me sadly over the sweet-smelling heads of our babes.

"Don't you speak to me of broken hearts," I whispered back coldly. "I know plenty of them."

But instead of letting me treat him badly as he had throughout my term, he repeatedly tried to break down my barriers.

I pushed everything I had into the children, dressing them and undressing them like they were dolls. They had large black eyes, like their father, and dark, very dark, red hair. They were beautiful, and one by one the Romani came to visit and coo over the heirs to the Gypsy Throne.

Bethan made me lavish gifts of linen for them, and I discovered that the beautiful carved cradle had been a gift from Pierre, the Court's carpenter. Clopin himself created toys for them that they were as yet too small to play with. Despite my continued bad attitude, the children caused him a lot more joy, and he never ceased to try and win me back. My heart of stone having been cracked by their birth, I was quite aware I loved him still, but I was determined to keep it away. I convinced myself no good could come of showing my feelings for him, and slowly this attitude began to develop towards those others close to me.

In the first few weeks it was not apparent, as I was so busy with the children and tired all the time. But Colombine began to notice I was constantly pushing her away and making excuses to not see her. I told Tante Marie I wanted to be the only one to care for my children and sent her away. Even my attitude to Abigail was colder, but unlike the others she addressed me on it.

"I know why you're locking everyone out," she said to me, as she cooked supper for me one evening. "You think you'll be happier that way. You won't be, you know."

"How can you be so sure?" I said snappishly and she grinned at me.

"You'll just get lonely, you silly thing. You've managed to convince yourself that by blocking people out it won't hurt when they go, but that will catch up with you. Can you imagine how miserable you'd be if something should happen to Clopin now while you're treating him as you are?"

I took a deep breath. "I may not be happier, but it's certainly easier. I don't need to go through the grief I did when Chester died."

She shook her head at me "You be careful. You be very careful. It's that kind of attitude that makes women like Isabelle."

That angered me too much for me to answer. We sat in silence for a while and then she asked me, "How are your powers?"

"I don't have them anymore. I lost them."

She chuckled. "You haven't lost them, girl. They're just in hiding. Try opening that stubborn heart of yours back up."

Clopin came home then, smiling at me, pleading with his eyes for a kiss, and under Abigail's watchful eye I let him. He went to the cradle and cuddled both of the babies before placing them back carefully. It was spring yet again, and Clopin was performing on the streets once more. Invigorated by both this and his children, his mood was better than I could bear, and as Abigail made her farewells and left us, I turned violently from him.

He wisely let me be, although the pain on his face was clear. I hid my own as emotion gripped me.

-----

I practised my powers again, and sure enough I had them still. But instead of improving my attitude, I grew worse. In fact, I went through a personality relapse. I was openly hostile to anyone foolish enough to enquire after me. People were confused by this change, and even I wasn't entirely sure what had made it so violent.

Little Esmeralda ran home in tears after I shouted at her once for touching the babies. Colombine put on a cheerful good humour through all my snappish retorts until finally I made one too many, and she jumped up, angry.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Herli, but you're not the girl I was friends with, that's certain."

"Maybe I'm possessed by Isabelle," I said, for want of a better retort.

She picked her cloak up hastily. "I damn well wouldn't be surprised."

I knew she wasn't going to come back. If the other Romani dropped by I would tell them I was busy and couldn't speak. Gradually they realised I was putting them off. I spoke to no-one as I moved through the Court, getting my business done quickly so I could return to the confines of my tent.

Clopin quickly found out about me isolating myself from the others and spoke to me about it.

"Colombine and Esmeralda both are very hurt and upset. I thought you loved them both? Tante Marie strongly advised me to take my belt to you today. I told her where to go, of course, but I understand her distress. Herli, is there anything more that's wrong? Can I do anything to help?"

"You can go to Hell!" I snapped at him, and he jumped back as though I had bitten him.

Little Harlan ran a fever for a couple of days and I worriedly tended to him non-stop. Unfortunately, when it passed my attitude began to extend itself to my beloved children. Abigail now practically lived in our tent, as I hardly lifted a finger to look after them, clean the place, or make food. I knew she understand better than most, and better than me, what I was going through and why, but she also did it so the others wouldn't call me a bad wife and mother. She told them she simply helped me as the birth had been hard on me and I was weak. I appreciated her tact, but did not tell her so.

Clopin was no longer so cheerful: in fact he came home with a look of positive dread on his face, his hours getting later and later. We barely spoke, for I seemed unable to control the reflex to throw things at every other word he said. He still looked after the children, but he no longer tried to win back my affection with caressing hands and gentle offers of support and friendship. I, on the other hand, seemed to be oblivious to the fact that I had all but lost the friendship of those most dear to me. Wild suspicions ran through my head that Clopin was sleeping around, and I tried to convince Abigail to follow him and watch and see what he did. She told me this was ridiculous.

"God damn it, can't you see that poor man is miserable? All he wants is for you to smile at him again!!!"

But I had forgotten how to smile. Esmeralda was too frightened of my bad temper to speak to me anymore, and Colombine too angry I wouldn't apologise. Tante Marie I never saw, and the others took the hint and stayed away. Only Abigail and Clopin remained, and Clopin I hardly ever saw. Abigail would now and then urge me to change my outlook, but I just ignored her.

I took to wandering through the Court for hours on end, coming and going as I felt like it. Eventually I grew curious for the outside world, and started leaving and exploring as well. Cosette was delighted to see me until I snapped viciously at her, and went on my way. I ignored everyone around me, shoving children out of my way, wandering down and around the bridge. I idled my days away, doing nothing much of anything except exploring my surrounding terrain, and snapping at anyone who stupidly spoke to me.

-----

I observed that Clopin was rapidly losing patience with me. Out of some loyalty he had more or less put up with my wickedness, but he was growing weary of it now. My spite, my deliberate attempts to hurt him were finally more than he could stand and we got into terrifically violent arguments, screaming at each other for all we were worth.

I became like one of the Court's spies, lurking forever just beyond the sidelines, watching everyone but never really joining in. As I sat on the stage, a solitary and cold figure, and looked out over the cheerful goings on, I almost felt regret, but would swallow it hastily.

Clopin decided that he could play my hurtful game, and he flirted with the ladies of the Court excessively, complimenting them, and returning to his old charming self. In the few times Colombine had visited me after I gave birth, she told me any of them who might have still borne me ill will had given up altogether, and respected me for having a son the first time. Now they glanced at me from the corners of their eyes as my tall slender handsome husband came striding in to kiss their hands and ask which one wanted to fetch him a drink.

Several times I felt like telling him where he could stick his drinks, but I silenced myself, and instead just left to continue my wanderings.

It was on one of these wanderings that I met Remy.

Remy was a gypsy with dark red hair and flashing pale green eyes, a rough chiselled face, and huge muscular body, though he was not so tall nor charming as Clopin. Remy liked his freedom, so he had not come to stay with us in the Court. Instead he parked his caravan and performed illusion and magic tricks for the crowd, his handsome face drawing the girls who made up most of his audience, rather than his skill.

I was intrigued by him the first day I saw him, so handsome and mysterious, but not particularly talented. I stayed after to speak with him, almost having forgotten how to imitate conversation.

"Interesting act you have there, my friend. Odd choice for someone like you," I said, with inquisitive eyes.

He glanced up at me and grinned. "Well, you have to make a living some way, don't you? Have I seen you around before?"

"It's possible. I've lived in Paris for over a year now. I've never seen you before."

He gave a short laugh. "No I come and go regularly. Try not to stay in any one place too long. I assume you live in the Court?"

"Yes. I do."

"I stayed there once. It's a good life, but it's not for me. Too many people around, even if they are my own."

He busied himself putting away his equipment as we spoke, and I leaned against his caravan to watch.

"Tell me sir, have you ever met any of the Trouillefou family on your travels?"

He smiled. "Yes, I surely have. Aloise Trouillefou, she's a lovely girl. Jean, Mauro, they're good men. Clopin had to stop his wanderings when his parents died, but he was fantastic company. Always had something to do, something to say. I wonder how he is. I should stop and say hello. I imagine you know him, living in the Court?"

I smiled secretly. "Oh yes, I've seen him around."

"Why did you ask about the Trouillefou family? You have something to do with them?"

"A little. I just wondered where they all were, our royal blood intrigues me."

He grinned again, his hair in his eyes, arm muscles bulging as he put a crate in his caravan. I thought he was a very fine specimen of a man indeed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

I looked at him closely for a few minutes, and he noticed my gaze and returned it unflinchingly, coiling a rope in his hands. He offered me a small smile.

"Well, mademoiselle, royalty is always intriguing, but if you didn't know a man was a king, how would you tell him apart from his fellows?"

"Philosophy so early in the day? By his fine clothes of course."

"Gypsy Kings don't have fine clothes."

"Ours does. His wife made them for him."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Or if not by fine clothes, then by the way his fellows treat him."

"But Gypsy Kings are rarely deferred to like gadje Kings."

"Must you always try to be right? At any rate you are wrong again. Clopin is recognised and respected by all."

He laughed. "I've no doubt of that, young mam'zelle.I always knew he would be."

I cocked my head to one side and smiled at him. I liked the way he threw his head back when he laughed. Again he saw me watching him and met my gaze.

"And when are you going to honour us with your prescience in the Court?"

"As soon as the humour strikes me."

"Is that so? And what if the King or Queen demanded your company?"

He gave another short laugh and slammed the shutters of his windows shut abruptly.

"No King or Queen can demand my company."

"You think so?"

His mood changed abruptly. The smile went from his face, and took on a look of impatience. "Yes. If you'll excuse me mam'zelle, I have things to do."

He disappeared inside his caravan, closing the door tightly shut. I stayed for a few moments looking curiously at the door. His sudden exit had not put me off or offended me in the slightest. I just chuckled as I took my way home.

-----

The next day I saw him again performing in a different area. I stopped briefly to watch him; at the end of his act he spotted me, but acted as though he hadn't, turning away with his back pointedly in my direction. At one time I might've been offended by such rude behaviour from a man, but so caught up in my little world I'd become that I didn't really care. On my way home that day I passed him again, and was somewhat startled when he called out to me, with a large smile on his face.

"Salut! Remember me, mam'zelle?"

I looked at him curiously, only a little baffled by this other sudden change. I didn't smile back, but I did walk up to him and took his hand.

"Of course I remember you. In a better mood, are we?"

He grinned that boyish grin again, his hair once more in his eyes. "Ah, I have to say sorry for that, don't I?"

"No."

He laughed." Well, I am at any rate. I am sorry, mam'zelle, my moods change like the wind. Anyway, enough of that. I never introduced myself. My name is Remy."

I shook his hand solemnly. "Mine is...Harkin."

I wasn't sure why I gave him a false name. I'm still not.

"That's unusual. It sounds like a Gaul name...something about red? Dark red?"

"Mmmhhmmm." I wasn't aware the word I made up would have an actual meaning.

"It suits you. You've been decked out in red these last two days. And of course you have that glorious hair." He reached out a hand to touch it, and I jerked back, irritated. He grinned again and apologised. I shrugged.

"Well, Harkin, if I may call you that, I was just about to have some lunch. Would you care to join me?"

And so began my acquaintance with Remy. We never exchanged last names, nor any real details about each other's lives. I learned quickly that his moods did change as fast as the wind. At one moment he'd be cheerful and full of jokes, the next he'd become sullen and grow irritated at the slightest thing. The odd thing about our friendship was that we never actively sought the other out. If we should happen to be in the same area at the same time, than more often than not we'd join up and do something together. Unless of course, one of us was in too bad a mood. In which case we'd just scowl at each other from over the way and go about our business.

We shared only the basic details with each other. He told me he preferred solitude after trouble with romanis earlier on in his life and so spent most of his time travelling solo. I told him a friend had betrayed me and so I spent much of my time in solitude. He did not ask me any details and I did not give him any.

We never really paid each other much attention, and I'm not altogether sure why we enjoyed each other's company when we had a mind to. After a while I realised that we were somewhat ideal companions, because we had both spent so much time isolating ourselves from others that we had many similar traits. I had grown as temperamental as he, through the weeks of being snappy and moving about by myself. I realised that this was why he was so moody - so much time had he spent on his own that he was used to doing whatever he felt like doing and feeling whatever he felt like feeling when he felt like it.

When we did talk we bantered philosophy - pretend philosophy, for we never took it very seriously. We argued over why man seeks companions and what good ever came of it. He had the fixed idea that the only way to be truly free was to have no attachments whatsoever. I realised eventually that this is why he never spoke about his personal self, and never enquired about me. He wanted to be able to get up and move on without regret, and leave no-one behind to worry about. The attitude intrigued, amused and annoyed me. Perhaps had I never met Raghu in India I would've grown the same as he. However, beginning with Raghu and ending with Clopin, I had seen too much of people to entirely agree with him. But so cold and bitter was my attitude at this time that I let him speak of it without much disagreement.

But in a curious way we came to depend on one another. We had no-one else in our lives that we could rave to without fear of consequence. The closest he got to confiding in me was telling me he had to have debates with himself on his long, lonely journeys. I asked why he didn't speak to his horse and he looked at me and said animals couldn't understand. I pitied him then, but said nothing.

He was good when I needed company, but was not in the mood to talk. I could sit next to his caravan on the banks of the river and watch him as he went about his business. He was also good in that I knew he expected nothing from me - not friendship, support or love or anything like that. I realised of course that that worked both ways, but I didn't know enough about him to care for him very much.

There was no doubt we found each other physically attractive, but we never made a move on one another. I removed my wedding earring before approaching him always, but I could not help but think of Clopin and my babies. I believe he kept his distance because he did not want to grow attached to me through physical love.

-----

And so like Clopin, my hours out of the Court grew longer. We never spoke, not even to argue anymore. I tried to make sure I was back always before he was, but he noticed that the tent was not being looked after like before. Abigail was caring practically full-time for the children now, and when I got home one day she shoved them angrily into my arms and bade me listen to their cries. Unexpectedly, tears came into my eyes as I looked at my precious children, but I gulped back my feelings and told her I heard nothing.

I think even she had begun to give up on me. And in defence, I grew colder and more distant still. Had I but been more intelligent I could've opened my heart earlier, and not had they all turn away from me so. But they did not know me anymore and so they turned away - and so I became more withdrawn. I was about to leave Remy's caravan one afternoon when he threw casually into the conversation,

"By the way, I am leaving on the morrow."

I was startled, but careful not to show it.

"Oh? And you never did come and visit the Court."

"No... Maybe next time."

"Maybe. Why are you leaving?"

He shrugged. "It's time to move on. I've stayed here too long as it is."

"Well," I stood up, brushing off my skirts and held out my hand. "It was nice knowing you, Remy."

He took my hand, and atypical to him, kissed it. "It was nice to know you Harkin." He tried to look into my eyes but I masked them and returned his gaze coldly. Then I left.

When I got back to the Court I found Clopin in our tent. Abigail was not there, and his face was enraged as our children cried fitfully in their cradle. He looked at me as I came in and demanded to know where I had been. I didn't answer, just tried to move past him to feed the babies. But he grabbed my arm and hauled me back and asked again. I struggled, pulling a face like an animal but he wouldn't let go.

"Out!" I finally said fretfully. "Where is Abigail?"

"I sent her back to her tent. We need to talk."

I finally shrugged his grip off. "There's nothing more to be said." I went over to our babes and looked down at them. I saw with shock that someone - Abigail probably - had been in my unicorn chest and had placed the pendant Clopin had given me between them. My eyes were truly opened to my poor little children and I almost cried as I leaned over them, regretting that I had spent so much time away, regretting I had been less than a mother to them.

But Clopin had not finished with me. Yanking me to my feet, he turned me around to face him, and I kept my head lowered, afraid to look, afraid that if I looked I would regret the way I had treated him and I wasn't sure I could handle the guilt and pain that would come with it.

He shook me, gripping my arms tight. "I'm well and truly sick of this, Herli. The tent's falling apart and the children are constantly unhappy. Abigail, an old woman too kind for her own good, is being run off her feet trying to make sure things stay in order in here. Now I can understand you grieving over the loss of your friend - grieving that Jean-Luc, a man you thought was your friend, caused his death - but enough is enough! You've become like a dirty little wild animal and I won't stand for it any longer!!"

"Then sit down!" I shrieked in a moment of hysterical mirth, and struggled with him again. He threw me down on the bed and stood over me, his face dark with anger.

"You're worse than any other wife in this Court and you used to be the best."

"I hate being a wife!" I screamed, longing suddenly for the freedom Remy knew. "Well you are one, so deal with it! You were the best of all of them. The best - and now - I don't know what's happened to you. You're not the woman I love any longer."

"You didn't love me until I had your stinking babies!!" I cried and he looked surprised, then angry again.

"Is that what you really think? You really think that? I don't understand you. I thought I did, once."

"No-one understands me."

"Poor you," he said sarcastically. "We don't understand you yet we were always ready to support you and give you friendship and love, unlike that lover of yours."

"What?" I sat up, surprised.

"You know who I mean. Remy. Boy with the dark red hair, notorious amongst us for his solitary lifestyle."

"But - but - but how - " I stammered.

"How did I know? Please. Other Romani walk the streets of Paris than the two of you, Herli. Word gets around. People think I should know. I thought you might take one. I didn't think it would be him, though I can see how you'd enjoy one another's company." His voice was bitter.

I threw my shoe at him. "He's not my lover!!! We've never touched one another! Why didn't you say anything to me??"

He shrugged. "There didn't seem much point. You've apparently made up your mind as to what you want."

"So you just give up on me?"

He threw his hands up in the air, outraged. "Goddamnit, how much more do you want from me? I tried everything - EVERYTHING - these last few months but you didn't want to know about it. I can allow you grieving time, but this is ridiculous. This has gone beyond anything I've known. Just do me a favour. I wont' expect anything from you, so long as you make sure our damned children don't starve. At least do me that courtesy." His look was reproachful as he turned to leave, and in sudden hysteria I tried to run past him and out. He caught hold of my hair and pulled me back.

"No, let me go! I don't want to stay here any longer!!"

"Well you have to!" he roared. "Things are going to change. You will do what I tell you, you'll stay here until you've got over this madness that has possessed you!!"

I slapped him hard across the face and his expression became very still. I pushed him back and faced him angrily.

"Once more, Herli," he said calmly, "and I hit back."

I sneered and shoved both of my fists against his chest, pushing him back again. Before I could make another move he caught me with a terrific backhand across my face and the next instant I was down on the floor, dazed, my head swimming. I looked up, blinking, holding my hand against my cheek. He towered above me, fists clenched and expression sorrowful, but he did not make a move to help me. When he spoke again his voice was quiet.

"I've never, in my life, raised a hand against a woman, and I would've sworn on everything precious to me never to touch you in anger, but sometimes you can only push someone so far. From what I've ascertained, you've spent your life doing just that. You're losing everyone you love and everyone who loves you because of it. If you want to replace us all with a cold man whose heart is harder than stone, then that's your choice. I'm sorry, Herli. I'll always love you, or at least the person you were, if you believe it or not, but I won't continue living the way I've been forced to these last few months. I'll let you think about it."

With that he left, and when he went I cried and tasted blood in my mouth and cried harder. The day grew longer, and I, cold where I sat on the floor, knew the night was thick and black in the streets above us. The babies cried, and wiping the blood and tears from my cheek I fed them, bathed them and changed them. I wrapped them both up warmly and put them to bed, singing to them until they fell asleep. Then I cleaned the tent. Abigail had done her best, but things were not as I liked them and I spent much time making them right again.

Then when I had finished I packed a few essentials - clean underclothes, another dress, some linen and a few other odds and ends including my precious unicorn box that my mother had given me, into a sturdy hessian bag. I wished desperately that I knew how to write so I could leave Clopin a note, but he couldn't read anyway, so it didn't seem to matter, after all. I bent over my babe's cradle to kiss them good bye, and saw Clopin's pendant. I picked it up and put it on, kissing it passionately. I remembered how once I would've died to be able to tell him how deep my feelings ran, and I had to leave quickly before they again overwhelmed me and made me stay where I no longer belonged.

-----

I found Remy's caravan where it always was, and not surprised, I found him preparing to leave. He greeted me, startled, and I smiled at him wryly.

"I thought you were leaving on the morrow?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Wanted to get a head start."

"Hah. Riiiight. Anyway, I'm coming with you."

His mouth dropped open, complete surprise written on his face." What? Harkin - what's come over you?"

"Nothing. I'm sick of the Court. I don't belong there. No you needn't worry, I won't stay with you long, I just need a ride out of this damned city."

He just kept looking at me, his handsome chiselled face confused. A strange look passed over his face, and he reached a hand out to touch the gold hoop that dangled from my left ear.

"You're married." He said quietly. I touched Clopin's earring. I had forgotten to take it out. I shrugged.

"Don't ask me about it. I don't belong here. Now come on, I don't want anything from you but a ride out of town. It won't kill you to do me a favour."

He shrugged, and said nothing, though I knew he must also have noticed the large purple bruise that had begun to colour my cheek. Then he climbed into the seat at the front of the caravan and clicked to his horse. Within a half hour we had left the city and were - free.

-----

Why did I leave? Not really because Clopin hit me, although that played a very small part in it. I knew in a way I deserved it, but I also knew he would never had done it had I not driven him to the very edge, the very edge where his love for me just might fall over and vanish if I kept pushing. Abigail said it to me many times, and I adored her, but it was when Clopin, the one I adored above all others, said it that I really saw. I had driven everyone away from me and quite deliberately too. What was wrong with me? I had made such a good effort at being a human being and then all of a sudden - this! Perhaps I was really more monster than human. I couldn't call myself animal, because their dignity and intelligence far surpassed my own. That's what went through my head as I lay down on Remy's little cot as he drove through the countryside that first night. I wept for many things - for the babies I wouldn't see grow up, for Clopin, for Chester, my darling Chester, and for Colombine and little Esmeralda, my surrogate daughter. But I thought what I did was for the best. Everyone in the Court would grow to hate me because of wild nature, just as they had in India, I didn't belong there. My presence would only bring misery to those I cared for most, and I wouldn't even show them I cared. Better to live on my own, make it by myself, let them get on with their lives and be happy.

It seemed an ideal solution at first. Remy and I left each other alone, talking only when the mood hit us, on the first few days of our travels. I quickly learned that so detached he had become from society that he wasn't even gentleman enough to offer me his cot. I didn't mind so much, but couldn't help comparing it to Clopin who would insist a lady take his bed than be wrapped up in a rug on wooden slats. Despite his gorgeous face and divine body, he knew nothing about women, though he was never lost for one should he want it. I sullenly went about my business, driving thoughts of the Court from my mind. I couldn't bring myself to take out Clopin's earring though, and I often caught Remy staring at it strangely.

I couldn't help myself from wondering, much as I had about India, over whether or not anyone in the Court noticed my absence and whether they missed me or not. I didn't allow myself to think of the shame Clopin would feel when people found out I was gone. I didn't allow myself to miss him either.

Remy never asked me to leave, so I stayed with him longer than I wanted to. I still found him attractive and saw many times from the way he looked at me that he desired me also, but we never did anything about it. He did suggest once that if I really wanted to be free, I should take my wedding earring out. I pretended I hadn't heard him.

But despite our obvious closure to one another, we still got along. We had our laughs, we had our interesting discussions. His company was not too bad, although it could be terribly lonely at times.

In fact so lonely were the long stretches when neither of us said a word, that I turned to my magic. I used my skill with animals to become friendly with the birds that flew in the trees, and the other small woodlife. I had never needed magic to look into their hearts, but I used it to see into the hearts of those people we passed, ascertaining who would welcome us and who would wish us to move on.

We passed a wandering tribe of Romani one day and to my surprise, instead of stopping and supping with them, as is the custom with nomad Romani, Remy wanted to stay long enough only to say hello. Then he whispered to me to get back in the caravan to continue on. I was surprised at the depth of his coldness, and later that night, while we talked, I looked into his heart. I was sure something very serious must've happened to make him so hard and indifferent. It was a cold shock to find - nothing. Remy was just a hard person, who wanted complete freedom from everyone. He believed that to love someone was to tie yourself down with a chain that could never be loosened, and he didn't want responsibility - he didn't want obligation. He just wanted to have a stress-free life. Realising this made me feel lonelier that I have ever felt in my life, and for the first time I wondered if I had made the right decision.

As I slept I had the second of my most influential dreams. I found myself again in the street of skeletons, wading through them as they tore at me. But as I looked up towards the end of the street I saw Chester clearly, waiting for me, and then the skeletons rose up and bore me to him, setting me at his mighty feet. I threw my arms around him and cried happily "Chester, my oldest friend, my dearest friend, my love!" Looking up I saw that my clothes were restored and there was not a mark on me. Looking into Chester's pink eyes I saw his old wisdom and courage and then he spoke to me. We had spoken often through our hearts, sometimes the most eloquent way of speaking, but now he spoke to me with his mouth.

"I am neither your dearest friend or your love," he told me softly. "It is time you realised that."

"But I want you back!" I cried into his soft fur.

He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "It cannot be, my darling. Our time together was precious, but it is over now. You should not let my death slaughter your life. You felt pain when I died. You felt pain when Clopin held you back. You felt pain when you learned of Jean-Luc's treachery. Giving birth was painful. And so was losing your friends one by one. But that is life."

"Life is pain?" I asked him tearfully.

He chuckled, his warm breath golden on my eyes. "No, you foolish child. Life is all things, that's its purpose. You have to take the bad with the good. You can't have just one or the other. If you don't face it then you're not living. I faced it. You should too. Wouldn't you like me to be proud of you?"

I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks, surprised to see they were blood.

"Then go back and face your life. You could be so happy, but you must let yourself believe you can be. Pain is just a small part of it. Be strong, Herli. Be like the tiger. Stop being afraid of yourself. It's alright to be unhappy. But don't fool yourself into thinking you've conquered it by shutting yourself off from everything. You're only feeding it that way."

He kissed me with his velvet nose, and stood up, his beautiful muscles rippling beneath his glorious fur.

"Where are you going, Chester?" I cried and he looked at him, a smile in his eyes.

"I have to go. Keep me inside of you, don't trap yourself within me. There - there is your dearest friend and love. Go to him. He waits for you, my darling. We'll meet again, one day."

He leapt away powerfully and I waved to him, feeling curiously happy, loving him completely. I turned to where he had gestured with his magnificent head and saw my husband Clopin standing, arms folded, smiling at me, waiting patiently. Still filled with the happiness Chester's kiss had given me, I ran full pelt into his arms, crying tears of joy, and he held me tightly in his arms.

I awoke in the night, cold on the floor, and lonely with no-one beside me. But I wrapped my cover around me tight, and smiled in the dark, my heart strangely light.

-----

The next day I was bathing in a nearby stream when Remy strode down. I gave a little cry and ducked down in the water. He squatted on the bank's edge and smiled at me.

"Come on Harkin, don't be shy. Come out of the water, I'll dry you off."

I peered at him through narrowed eyes.

"What have you been drinking, Remy? Stop being ridiculous."

He stood up and shook his head, still smiling.

"You're the one being ridiculous. You know how you feel about me and how I feel about you. Don't you think it's time we acted on it?"

"I'm married!" I spat at him, and he laughed in that way I had once found charming, throwing his head back.

"Some wife! You ran away from home, remember? I can teach you how to be truly free, but you must throw that earring to the depths of the muddy stream! Are you afraid to be free, Harkin?"

I looked at him for a few moments and found it very strange indeed that he thought I was afraid. In that instant several things became clear and I shook my head at him.

"I'm not afraid of anything, Remy. I'm not afraid of death, I've faced it. I'm not afraid to love, I've faced that also. I'm not afraid of pain, I've faced it again and again. Most of all, I'm not afraid to be myself, no matter what the consequences."

He turned back to me, pleased. "Well come on, then, free yourself. Be a true Romani!"

I shook my head again. "No Remy. You're the one who's afraid. You're incapable of loving anyone, even yourself."

He just chuckled. "Afraid, hardly! Don't you find this so much more agreeable, this life free of worry, of stress?"

"No. I find it lonely. Yes I enjoy my independence. I enjoy being able to make up my own mind - but my true friends always allowed me to do this. I did not sacrifice my freedom by caring for them. Anyone who believes they do I feel sorry for. I won't deny I think you're attractive - but I have decided if I'm going to love someone it must be wholly. I cannot sleep with a man I do not love. It is false. I cannot be friends with someone who I won't support in their time of need. If I cannot love someone in the way humans are able, I prefer a completely solitary life. It's all or nothing with me, I'm afraid."

He squatted down again, clasping his hand in front of him, gearing up for another philosophical discussion.

"So you'll deny yourself pleasure simply because we don't love each other?"

This time I nodded. "Absolutely. Because afterwards I would only return to being lonely and unhappy again. I thought once we were ideal companions, that we were very similar, but I since have learned I am wrong. I have made a good many mistakes, but at least I recognise them as being such. You will die alone, Remy."

He laughed again. "Just the way I like it!"

I smiled wryly. "You say that now. Maybe when you die you'll have convinced yourself it is true. For your sake I hope you never discover just how lonely you really are. I'm sorry for you, Remy."

"Don't be."

"Alright then, I won't waste the emotion." I could see I was going to get nowhere with him, so I made my tone jolly. He laughed along.

"I've never understood all the torment people want to put themselves through for love and other such silly emotions."

I ducked down lower in the water and thought of Clopin and how he could make me feel with just one smile. "It's worth it. No, I have to waste the emotion, I am sorry for you Remy. You're missing out on a lot of life with this isolation of yours."

He stood up again, kicking bits of dirt around. "Au contraire, Mademoiselle Harkin. I travel all over, see all different things. It's a fine life."

I shook my head and didn't answer.

"Well, you better get out before that fair skin of yours wrinkles. I'll see you back at the caravan. And never you fear, ma cherie" - he winked at me - "I'll change your mind about us!"

I waited until he was out of sight before ducking out of the stream, and drying myself down, putting on my chemise. Suddenly he appeared from the nearby bushes and wrapped his arms around me.

"My god, you're beautiful," he breathed in my ear. "You must've driven that husband of yours wild with passion. That hair, that body!"

I shoved him away in annoyance.

"I told you to stop being ridiculous, Remy!!"

He kept trying to kiss me though and I grew angry.

"Force yourself on me, and I'll kill you, you bastard!"

He stopped and glared at me. "I thought you found me attractive?"

"Not anymore I don't!" I snapped. "Good God, you really don't understand, do you? Let me go, damn it!"

He obeyed and looked at me strangely." I really thought you were like me, Harkin. But it seems you're not."

"Damn right I'm not."

"I think it's better we part company at the next village."

I sighed wearily, and pulled my dress on. "Fine with me."

He shrugged and turned away to go back to the caravan. As he left I thought - did I look like that to others? So cold and uncaring? And I wanted more than ever to go home, home to the Court of Miracles.

I towelled my hair and began following him up the path when I heard the beat of horse hooves on the dirt road. I ducked down behind a bush, wanting to see who it was who came near us before they saw me. There were about four or five horses, by my reckoning, tired from the sounds of their breath, and I thought dreamily of the beautiful animals I'd left behind at the Court.

They reigned in near Remy's caravan and he came out to greet them reluctantly. Then a deep, beautiful voice spoke and my heart leapt when I realised who it was.

"Hello there, Remy, long time no see."

"Salut Clopin! What brings you to the countryside? I thought you'd be busy with the Court!"

"Alas, Remy. I've lost something very dear to my heart and have reason to believe you have found it."

"Oh? What is that, then?" Remy's voice was confused.

"My wife, Herlikin."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

All the while this conversation took place my heart was beating hard, completely filled with the old love I no longer had the power to fight. I listened to that magical voice and dreamed of it enveloping me as I crouched in the bushes. Remy paused while he figured it out, and when he spoke his voice was incredulous.

"Harkin is your wife?"

"I've no idea what she's told you her name is, but she has the most glorious red hair you'll ever see, and her eyes are oddly collared. She's very fond of the colour red."

I could almost see Remy nodding slowly. "Aye, that's her alright."

Clopin's horse whinnied, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse with eagerness and worry, and my heart thudded painfully inside me.

"Excellent. Lead me to her. I've come to bring her home."

A long pause. Then Remy spoke. "What if she doesn't want to come home with you? What if she desires freedom?"

Clopin laughed coldly. "If I know my Herli she's discovered just what exactly your kind of freedom is, and furthermore, has discovered just how confining it really is. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I love her and I want her to come home with me."

Remy laughed in his cold, humourless way, and was about to answer, but I couldn't stand it any longer. I broke cover from the bushes, and ran towards my husband crying, "Clopin, Clopin!"

"Herli!" He jumped down from his brown gelding and ran to meet me as I collapsed into his arms.

"Oh my darling," he whispered tearfully against my cheek and hair as my body sagged in his arms and I cried with all the energy I had in me.

"Oh Clopin!"

He held me tight and I squeezed him around his middle, never having known such happiness in a man's scent, the feel of his body or the sound of his voice.

He let me cry for a few minutes, running his hands through my hair and when he went to move away I begged him not to. I hadn't realised until that moment how much I had missed him. Finally, the extremities of our reunion being over, I leant back and smiled at him.

"You came to find me?"

He stroked my cheek tenderly, looking at me with what I knew was deep love.

"Of course I did, you silly woman. What the hell did you think?"

I couldn't answer, just choked back some sobs, and buried my head in his chest. The other Romani laughed and nudged one another happily. Clopin held me, smiling, hiding his feelings like a real man, and told the others to pitch camp, it looked as though we'd be stopping for the night.

When I was finally strong enough to raise my head and loosen my grip on him I looked around to see Remy looking not very pleased at all.

"This is my campsite!"

The others scoffed at him and Clopin laughed as he cuddled me in his lap by the new campfire.

"Well, you can either deal with sharing it with us for one night, or move on, it's your choice!"

"You're not going to punish me?" His voice was sullen. Clopin just looked at him strangely.

"Good god, whatever for? You've done nothing wrong. Herli went with you of her own free will, now she's simply seen the error of her ways." I nuzzled his neck happily.

"You should've told me you were married to the King," Remy said to me grumpily. I looked at him, my eyes shining, too happy to worry too much. I knew he'd get by.

'Oh Remy..." I paused, not knowing what to say. Finally I laughed. "I'm so glad I'm not like you!"

For the first time ever I saw, Remy looked hurt. But I just wanted to be with my husband, my love and dearest friend.

"God, how can you ever forgive me for being such a monster?" I whispered sadly to him that night as the others amused themselves with their home-made instruments and jokes. He chuckled and inhaled my hair deeply.

"It's not so hard. We'll just say you were possessed by a demon, and now you've been cleansed."

"Oh Clopin, cleanse me, please!"

He carried me quickly to the one tent that had been erected for just this purpose, though no-one had said as such. That night we made love like we never had before, glorious hours of becoming reacquainted with each other, renewing ourselves of each other's bodies and innermost feelings, as we spoke to each other of how torturous the last few months, and especially the last few weeks of absence from each other, had been. It had been so long since the last time that it hurt me, but I would not have had it any other way. I wanted his mouth to cleanse my entire body and he happily obliged me, and finally, long past a year of marriage, past a year of the first time we made love, I told him.

"Clopin, I love you."

"Do you, my love?"

"Oh yes. If I wake up tomorrow and this is a dream, I will die I know I will."

"Well, my only love, it's tomorrow already. This can't be a dream then, no?"

I smiled and wrapped my arms around him.

"Besides, I'd miss you too much if you died. If you died, then I would have to die to join you, and who would look after our children then?" he asked me, and I kissed him, loving him too much to even say it. But still I tried.

"Oh Clopin, if only I could tell you just how much this love consumes me - "

"Shhhh... I can feel it in you, ma cherie. Don't try and say it with the mortal's clumsy mouth. Tell me through your heart. And know, that no matter how much it is, that I love you back double and more besides." He kissed my cheek warmly, where the bruise had been and was now long since faded.

"Rubbish!" I giggled. "I know I love you more. I must!"

"Oh please!" he groaned and shushed me with his mouth as we reached another climax.

-----

The skies outside had turned to grey by the time we'd finished and I was reminded of the first night we had truly slept together. But unlike that first night, I got very little extra sleep, as we had to awaken early to go back to the Court. My body was sore again but I gave Remy a happy kiss goodbye, and sat on Clopin's horse in front on my husband. Remy watched us with an expression of confusion. I knew he could never understand, but did not allow myself to dwell on it, being too preoccupied with the extra pain the horse's trot caused me.

"Ouch ouch ouch!" I sang in beat as we bounced along and Clopin laughed and kissed the back of my head.

"It's alright, my love. It won't be long until we're home. They've been asking after you."

"They have?" I asked, surprised and pleased. I felt him nod.

"Yes, yes they have. Colombine was distraught when you left. She blamed herself for you leaving, saying she had not supported you enough."

"She supported me far too much," I said reflectively. "I did not earn such consideration."

He kissed me again and groaned into my hair. "It's alright. She willingly blamed me when I told her how I whacked you. God, I could cut off my hand for that."

"No, I deserved it," I said decisively, and when he tried to protest I cut him off. "No I did! I was beastly. You were far more patient than you should've been. My only regret is how much time I wasted when we could've been so happy."

He cuddled me joyously.

"It took me a couple of days to come and look for you. I was too unhappy at first, I wanted to let you go if it would make you happy. It was Abigail who woke me up. She threw me out of my chair and told me to bring you home directly! Then I knew why you really left and knew I had to bring you home."

I smiled and leaned into him. "I was going to come back anyway, but I'm so glad you found me. " I twisted around on the saddle to face him and we kissed rapturously as the horse jolted us down the dirt path.

-----

When we arrived back in Paris I smiled at the buildings and streets, glad to be back, and when we entered the Court I ran directly to our tent, and picked up my babies and covered them with kisses. I had only been gone a couple of weeks, but they seemed to have already grown bigger and more beautiful than ever.

The word got around the Court that I had been found, unharmed and free of the devil that sometimes possesses women after they give birth. Abigail hobbled as fast as her old legs would carry her to smile at me with her beautiful toothless mouth and I swept her little brown body into my arms. Everywhere I turned there were smiles of forgiveness and friendship, and my heart was warm and glad.

That night we held a party in the Centre - not so much a welcome back feast for me, but more of a christening feast for my babies. We presented them formally to the Court, and they were cheered and sung to by all. Clopin held me in his arms and I held the babies in mine and we smiled at each other with complete content. They gurgled and cooed in my embrace, smiling gummy baby smiles to the women who clucked and fussed with them. Not at all distressed by the cacophony of music, smells, laughter and broad splashes of colour that assaulted their young senses in the Centre, they were very interested and watched it all with bright, alert gazes.

I noticed Colombine was there, but she had not approached me. She did not seem her usual self, she sat somewhat off to the side, only smiling quietly to herself. Decked out all in black and white, she was very lovely and I felt horribly guilty over the way I had abused her friendship. Handing the children to Clopin who was forced to put aside his drink and pipe, and promising to return with a kiss, I went over to her a little shyly. She gave me a grudging smile, not looking at me with her eyes.

I knelt down in front of her and clasped my hands in front of me, like the way the Christians do when they pray.

"Please, pleeeeease forgive me!" I begged her. "I was an absolute idiot!! I'm so sorry, Colombs!!!"

She sniffed and lay her head to one side, thinking. I stayed on my knees looking at her pleadingly.

"Come on, how many people do you think I've begged to in my life?" I smiled at her beseechingly, and finally she relented, giving me the old grin, her eyes full of her old humour and spark. We hugged each other fiercely, and laughed, and we skipped together with our arms linked back to where Clopin waited impatiently for me to return. Colombine tickled Harlena's forehead and she giggled at her. I let her nurse the little girl, holding my son to me closely. I felt Clopin kiss my cheek and turned to smile at him. He winked to me, as he and his friends continued to shout over the top of one another. I settled back comfortably against his body as the women joined us and I listened to them talk happily.

-----

The next day, everything back to normal like it had never changed, I made Clopin his breakfast and we lovingly kissed goodbye as he went up to the world above. I knew he would allow me to perform again when the children were a little older, but I was perfectly happy with fussing over them that day. I cleaned the tent up and unpacked my little hessian sack, looking at my unicorn chest with pleasure, stroking my mother's heirloom box happily. I stroked Chester's cushions and wondered why I had grown so dissatisfied with life here. I could think of my old friend without crying now, and I put him in the paradise land my parents and brothers lived in, able to visit them with no regret, and no tears.

After lunch I went to Christophe asking him a favour, and he easily procured it for me. Then I went to Chanterfleurie's tent and gave Esmeralda the little kid goat Christophe had obtained for me, as a way of apologising. She grasped the wiggling little beast happily and forgave me instantly. After that I never minded her and her little goat coming around to the tent to play with the babies.

Her dancing lessons resumed, naturally, as Colombine and I returned to our old way of life. I was over my melancholy madness completely by this stage, and things were as they had always been. The two of us fooling around light-heartedly, seeking pretty things from the markets, Clopin joining us in the tavern, he and I sharing all our tiniest thoughts, making love and knowing we had found all we'd ever need in each other. My heart and soul was open to him once more, and again we achieved the old bond few are ever fortunate enough to know. At any time of the day I could feel where he was, and if he was happy, and he knew the same about me. I was completely secure in our love for each other, knowing that after all it had been through it would last, even beyond our own deaths. I was curious about one thing, and had to ask Abigail;

"Abigail, you have always been able to see into my heart, why then, did you not guess that I would return and get over my grief?"

She laughed, shocked for a moment. "My lord, child, if you had any idea how closed off you were! Not even the most powerful sorcerer in Europe could've broken down those walls!!!"

I grinned at her slyly. "I've always wondered how to keep my private thoughts a secret from witches, now I know how, I might just - " She glared at me and I laughed. "Only joking!!"

-----

So life in the Court was once again its old blissful state. Time passed in a happy blur, and my babies grew older and stronger. I would dangle my pendant in front of them so that the light would reflect off the precious medal and make them laugh. I put weight on, and kept my strength up by resuming my acrobatics. Very seldom I wondered about Remy and Jean-Luc and if they were happy in the lives they had made for themselves. But they seemed very unimportant and I didn't think of it much. I would swing Clopin's hand as we walked down the streets, and he'd laugh and sweep me up into a dance, both of us ducking swiftly away if any of the guards expressed interest in us. He kept a close eye on me to make sure I didn't do anything foolish, and I obliged him, waiting until he would let his guard down. We'd cuddle in his secret rock cave behind the stage and talk about the future, talk about the past, talk about anything that came to mind.

I'd look at him, so handsome and charming, besides me, and my heart would swell with love and gratitude. He'd catch the look and grin, teasing me, but I often found him looking at me in the same manner.

More time passed and Harlan and Harlena graduated from crawling to tottering unsteadily on their round little legs, holding on to whatever was nearest to keep them up and I cried with pride and showed Clopin who embraced them both as they pinched his nose and tugged on his beard. I thought he was a glorious father, much like my own had been, returning from his adult duties within the Court to play with the children and allow me some time to myself. And of course Abigail and Tante Marie were always more than happy to watch them for a few hours if we wanted to go out together.

-----

I watched autumn in Paris, and decided it was my favourite season, the leaves turning to gold and brown and floating gently to the ground, the air warm and wild and the river rushing. It was over all too soon and the bitter cold of winter set in, driving me beneath to the warmth of the Court once more. I suffered a mother's malady and wrapped my children up in copious cotton garments. Being ten months of age by now, they babbled to each other happily, and I wondered often what they talked about. They were a source of constant wonder to me, and I watched them, fascinated, for hours. Harlan was my special pet and Harlena her father's. We would often bemoan to one another that we loved our respective child more than each other, though we knew hat was ridiculous.

I was able to attend the Festival of Fools that year, in fact Clopin very graciously allowed me to be part of the entertainment by dancing on the stage erected for the day. I'm proud to say I did very well. I've never witnessed such an enormous party - everyone singing, dancing, and getting as gloriously drunk as they wished. The festivities were splendid, although there seemed a very real danger of getting crushed in the boisterous crowd. Clopin had been so good and devoted the last few months by giving up much of his recreation time with his friends to help me look after the children that at the end of the day I told him to do as he had always done. He hesitated a moment, holding my hands in his, but I pushed him away and told him to come home in one piece. He kissed me and rushed off to join up with the other Romani men, they all linking arms and singing, and I laughed when he returned home the next evening, still drunk, and telling me he came home early because he missed me before falling asleep, snoring loudly.

We celebrated our second wedding anniversary by leaving the babies with Tante Marie and throwing ourselves a party in the Tavern. All there were happy to join and we finished it off by acting out the romance writer's favourite scenario - making love by a roaring fire with a bottle of red wine!

The snows melted, and it was spring, my second favourite season and Clopin grew very annoyed by my constantly sniffing the air. I adore the scent of spring, the clean fresh air laden with new life, and I can't get enough of it. He'd tap his foot impatiently, waiting while I inhaled the air deeply on the streets, before moving about our business. One day he brought me back a bunch of freshly plucked roses, still dripping with morning dew, telling me contentiously that he'd stolen them from the King's own Garden.

"And you tell me not to take unnecessary risks!" I teased him. He shrugged. "I'm a man, I'm cleverer about these things" was his come back. "Besides giving you the best roses in the whole country is very much a necessary risk!" he added, silencing any retort on my part.

On the Fifteenth of March it was the twins' first birthday and we had an enormous party in the Court, the whole lot of us gathering in the Centre to cook great joints of meat and make up stupid songs in their honour. I wept the next day when first Harlena, then Harlan, said "maman" and Clopin sulked when he got home because I had spent the whole day getting them to repeat "maman" and had not taught them "papa". He took them in his arms and said "papa" over and over again but they stubbornly repeated "maman" and then laughed at the faces he pulled, thinking it a game.

The next day they were saying it however, and he took them around to all the tents, proudly showing everyone unfortunate enough to be there, and they laughed at him and clucked over the babies. After that, their development was fast and they repeated everything we said, and grew faster and more mobile on their feet.

Esmeralda used them as an audience for the tricks she was teaching her goat, whom she'd christened Djali. They understood none of it, but loved the sight of that pretty little creature hopping around on his hind legs.

Colombine and I would take one each in our arms and take them under the bridge and through the city, showing them the world which they loved instantly, looking at it from their beautiful black eyes, so much like their father's. I apologised to Cosette for my previously rude behaviour, and together the three of us giggled and frolicked and wondered why we'd ever been unhappy.

Life was very good.

-----

It was about the middle of summer after that when I inadvertently passed the Palace of Justice, glaring down at me, black and horrible against the azure sky. I glared back at it, not wanting an artefact of stone to intimidate me, and then pulled my cloak around me closer as a troop of guards led a procession from its mighty mouth of a door. Then I saw, for the first time, the man who'd so plagued our people. Judge Claude Frollo. He might, at one time in his life, been a handsome man. His bone structure was good, and he was tall and straight-backed. But years of cruelty and prejudice had marked his face permanently and it looked to be carved from a chunk of marble, his cheek bones prominent, and his mouth curling and cruel, his eyes haughty and cold and his head prematurely grey.

I watched him with narrowed eyes and thought of my old friend who had been slaughtered in part because of him. We never had found out what happened to his body. I made a decision then and hurried back to the Court. I sought out Jenessa, the sullen black eyed spy, and asked her certain questions about the Palace of Justice. She looked at me curiously.

"The Palace is bolted shut tight every evening as soon as the light begins to fade. During the day the doors are open, though heavily guarded, and some of the windows are open too. They're not guarded, but guards roam the hallways. May I ask why?"

I grinned at her. "Yes you may. Doesn't mean I'll answer though."

She looked at me, confused for a moment, before realising the joke and nodding in understanding. She didn't laugh and I shook my head as I skipped away. The spies at the Court were definitely weird.

That night I smiled secretly to myself and Clopin observed me for a while before demanding to know what I was plotting.

"Why, whatever makes you think I'm plotting something, my love?" I asked him feigning surprise.

"Because you're walking around grinning like a loon, rubbing your hands together and muttering to yourself. Now I know you're up to something. What is it?"

"Why nothing, my only darling!" I said soothingly and crawled onto his lap, while he "hmmm"'d at me, not convinced. But I distracted his attention with kisses and after a while he forgot about it and took me over to the bed.

The next day I rose early, as always, but surprised Clopin by getting dressed for outdoors.

"You don't normally leave so early," he said suspiciously. "Where are you going?"

"I want to get the freshest bread and fish," I told him, but I could see he didn't believe me.

"If you're doing something you shouldn't, I'll spank you hard."

"I'll look forward to it!" I teased him, and ducked out of the way as he tried to spank me then.

I dropped the babies off with Abigail and then set off, feeling very sly, directly to the Palace of Justice. I sat at a fountain, munching on some bread I bought, looking at the Palace from the corners of my eyes. I didn't want to risk even trying to get past the guards at the door, so after a while I set up and casually headed down the street to the side of the building, being careful not to look at the Palace or the guards. Once I was past them all I looked at the side of the building. Some of the windows were set lower than the others, but they were fastened shut tight.

"Damn Frollo, doesn't he like fresh air!" I muttered crossly to myself, and moved around towards the back of the building. A small courtyard was enclosed by a low stone wall, and after looking around surreptitiously to make sure I wasn't observed, I dug my feet into the wall and hauled myself over, scraping my knee painfully, and falling clumsily into the bushes. I stayed very still for a few moments, waiting to see if my movements had been heard. After a while, I found it safe to move and changed my position.

By now it was past midday, and I crept cautiously to the latticed doors that opened onto the ill cared for and dank courtyard. I snuck inside, keeping close to the walls and hiding in the shadows (and there were plenty of them),moving down the dark maze of corridors.

Frollo evidently favoured the heavy Gothic Architecture, for the walls were bare stone, the furniture heavy and made of dark wood, little decoration, no colour whatsoever. Although the ceilings were high and beautifully carved, the place felt no less a prison for it. I felt a mad panic buzz between my ears as the corridors led me down a twisted path, seemingly never-ending and frighteningly claustrophobic.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

I made myself stop and breathe the dank air deeply, calming myself and getting my bearings. I listened carefully at a heavy oak door, even sniffing at the keyhole like my tiger would've done. Finally I decided it was safe, and carefully slid the door open. I crept inside the enormous, bare room, the flagstones cold beneath my feet, the tall, heavily-draped windows letting in the least amount of light. The room was empty, and I closed the door quietly behind me. I darted to the windows and glanced out to see where I was. Below me was the small alley that Clopin and I had run down that first day out, two years ago now. Now I knew where I was, I went and hid under a large stone table, covered with a deep mauve piece of velvet. I wanted to wait until it was dark, and I settled down, shifting around uncomfortably on the hard floor.

The prospect of several hours wait did not daunt me; I amused myself in my mind. I imagined myself back flipping onto the stage and dancing, twisting, cart wheeling, performing the various acrobatic tricks I so loved to do. I imagined making beautiful dresses from expensive fabric and wearing them to the admiration of all. Then I ran barefoot in the forests of India with Chester's powerful body galloping gracefully besides me. We played in the mud and I teased the monkeys. I was vaguely aware that I was reliving actual events, but then my mind moved on. I played with my children, now older and more divine than ever, then greeted my gorgeous husband who came in the door to sweep me up in his arms. I dreamed of us old and wizened like Abigail, but still able to arouse all the old passion in each other, still laughing and sharing adventures as we teased each other and hobbled about. And there were children, grown up strong and intelligent, and there were more - two boys, twins and a girl, younger. Under that heavy stone table, leaving against the roughly carved leg, my head thrown back, my eyes fell open a little way and I started to become aware that so deep in my trance I had fallen that I was now seeing my future.

A heavy door clanged shut somewhere in the building, intruding far enough to startle me out of my trance, and then I was back in the present once more, my heart pounding from the shock of so violently being pulled out of a life I could look forward to. I waited a few moments more till my heart slowed down again and I smiled at what I had just experienced, moving cautiously out from under the table. The room was still empty, and now pitch black. I waited a few moments until my gypsy eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could make out the vague image of the objects in the room. I crept quickly to the window and looked out. The streets were dark, it was night. I snuck again to the heavy door I had come into the room from and within a few seconds had slipped into the corridors beyond. I held my head high in the black and got my bearings. Acting on instinct more than anything else I headed toward the centre of the Palace.

Sure enough, the maze eventually opened up into the large reception hall at the very front of the building. Only a few candles still burned and I realised it must be quite late. I could make out the few hangings on the walls, the rugs on the floor beneath me. A huge marble staircase in the Centre of the room led upwards, and behind it, smaller, darker staircases led down to the dungeons. There were other dark oak doors set in the grey stone walls, I guessed that they led on to the magisterial courts and such. Which meant upwards...

Ducking in and out of the shadows I reached the stairs and sped silently up them. I had my years of moving in the jungles with Chester to thank for my stealthiness and control. At the top of these stairs it was another pause, and I knew I had no way of truly guessing where anything was. I was not even entirely sure what I was looking for, except I knew a white tiger was a very rare oddity in this country. I moved down the marbled hall and came to the end of it where it turned into another hall. Further down this one I could see a dim orange glow seeping out from beneath one of the doors. With a goal now I sped down, arriving outside this one lighted room. Cautiously, and oh so slowly, I pushed on the door.

Slowly, slowly, it opened revealing to me a huge room, even barer than its predecessors, the end of it a great fireplace was carved into the wall, it was from this that the glow emitted. In front of it and facing it was a huge velvet chair, one arm visible lying over the side. I crept forward, my bare feet making no sound on the floor, and I peeked cautiously over the side. It was Frollo, sleeping fitfully as well he should, his brow lightly furrowed, fingers twitching where they lay. I glared at him in wonder and some small apprehension at being so close to this man who once put a bounty on my head - and likely would again. I looked forward at the fire and then had to shove my fist into my mouth to stifle my cry, for lying outstretched on the floor was the pelt of my beloved Chester! His head stuffed and mighty mouth was propped open, black stones wide and vacant where his eyes should have been. I crawled forward, tears streaming down my cheeks and ran my hands lovingly over the fur, still soft, still smelling a little of my old friend.

But I could only allow myself to grieve a few moments longer. I was too close to the danger with not many means of escape. Carefully, I gathered up my old friends skin, and wrapped it around me, wresting his head on mine, his long claws, still intact scraping my chest where they dangled. Then with my eyes hot and stinging I turned to face Frollo. He slept still, the sleep of a guilty man, troubled and unpleasant. I thought of my little dagger under my skirts and thought...how easy would it be...to put an end to so much misery and heartache right now...to free my people from his terrible grasp...but while I debated still whether or not to act on this urge, a log moved in the fire place, dropping heavily, and his eyes flickered then opened wide. He gazed at me, startled and alarmed, and I froze, not sure what to do.

I took up the arm of Chester that was wrapped around my neck, and raising it high brought the claws down across Frollo's chest. He gave a scream, as they scrapped lightly across his flesh, and then I bounded past his chair and out the door. I could hear him screaming behind me, and knew the guards would be alerted. I had no time to lose myself in the maze of corridors once more, so instead once I rushed down the staircase I headed straight for the main door, forgetting it was solidly bolted. I pounded on it for a few moments in panic, then gave a gasp as I heard the voices of the guards approaching me, running, their weapons drawn. I thought wildly for a moment, and then ran behind the staircase and down one of the miserable little things that led into the dungeons. Trying to ignore the cries of those suffering, dodging their outstretched arms, and shoving one of Chester's paws across my nose to block out the stench I leapt through this filthy terror, finally arriving at the steel door I was sure must be the one.

Tearing it open I flung myself inside and, hearing the soldiers move angrily through the dungeons behind me, pressed frantically at the wall until finally I found the right brick and the exit was open to me. I paused only long enough to make sure the door slid shut again, and then I was tearing through the streets, not hesitating once, just following my heart. I must've looked a terrible sight, a red-haired gypsy with a tiger pelt thrown around her, eyes shining with tears.

At the city gates I stopped, wondering if I should return to the Court and tell Clopin what I was doing, what had happened. But I seemed to have come too far. I continued out along the cobblestone road which eventually gave way to dirt. I walked along this way until morning. My feet were cut and bruised all over and my skirts were dusty. I hitched them up to make my progress easier, and tore the sleeves of my dress to cool myself down. I tried admiring the countryside to distract me, but it was extremely difficult, especially with the weight of Chester's heavy pelt on my back combined with the weight of the sun which beat down mercilessly.

Finally a man in a cart passed and I asked him if he could give me a ride, offering to pay and showing him a purse of money to prove it (for I was far too proud to beg). He agreed, and was quite friendly all the way, chatting to me cheerfully, although he looked at my strange package curiously. We reached the field with the stream, and I told him he could let me off here. I asked him for some flint, and he gave it to me, then refused my money after all. I spent the next couple of hours building a small raft of mud and reeds, then piled the old skin of my darling friend onto it. Poking bits of straw over it, I kissed the head tenderly, then struck the flint. I watched it burn for a moment, making sure the flames caught hold properly, then pushed it off.

-----

I watched it for a while, crying a little, but I felt better, much better. Things had been put right now and I was ready, once again, to go home. I picked my weary way through the field and started back along the road. I moved much slower now, my body tired out. Several carts passed and though I asked for a ride, no-one would stop.

So I walked many miles, in this manner, to the small town I'd passed on my way out, and made my way into the inn, a small cheerily-lit and dirty place with a grumpy thin husband and a stern fat wife. I settled down near the bar and ignored the stares of the men who wondered what a strange dirty gypsy woman was doing on her own, paid for wine and some bread and cheese, a few pieces of fruit with it. I was in danger of falling asleep, though I knew that I couldn't - that I had to keep going. I tried to urge myself to climb from my chair, but I couldn't do it.

The innkeeper's wife took pity on me, and told me to stop for the night. "I can't." I moaned "I have to go home, my husband will be worried for me."

I heard a few of the men chuckle, amused by the thought that gypsies married and were loyal. The fat, dirty wife crossed her arms and shook her head at me.

"Where do you live?"

"Paris."

"Ha! That's' miles away yet. You'll never make it home in one piece the condition you're in. You can sleep by the fire tonight, and I'll ask not a sou for it. But you should stay."

I thanked her wearily and accepted the dingy blanket she gave me. Her husband argued with her, none too quietly, that I would rob them blind, but she shushed him, and too tired to care what they said, I curled up on the hearth and fell into a sound sleep.

-----

It was only a few hours later when I awoke, my heart racing, my mind a panic of fear. I glanced wildly around me, at the now dead fire, the bare-benched room, everyone long since asleep in their beds. I could see nothing to attribute my fear too, but it continued nonetheless. I got up and paced anxiously, my mind a whirl, cries coming to my throat that I had to choke back. Finally I paused and collected my thoughts. What could I attribute to this panic? The word came unbidden - Clopin! Something was wrong with Clopin, I was sure of it, and tossing the little rag of a blanket to the floor, I unbolted the inn door and raced out of the town, running as fast as I could towards Paris.

When the sun rose on yet another day I was forced to slow my pace, and a terrible stitch had formed in my side, causing me almost to double over. But I kept on doggedly, the feeling of panic having not subsided. When a cart finally passed driven by a farmer with a great black beard taking his produce to town I begged shamelessly for a ride, offering them money, my jewellery if only he would take pity on me. He did, and slowed the cart enough for me to hop on, then told me to be careful to keep my hands in my lap; he had a scythe in the back and was not afraid to cut the hands off a gypsy thief. I glared at him a little, but said nothing, not wanting to lose my ride. He mumbled something about gypsy beggars and I drew myself up proudly and said pointedly to him "Sir I assure you I am not in the habit of begging, but my husband needs me. Would you not want your wife to be prepared to sacrifice a very small part of her pride to rush to your aid?"

He said nothing just scowled, and he ambled towards Paris.

Sitting back and trying to calm myself, I put my hand on my chest and felt with ever increasing alarm that my pendant, the precious pendant Clopin had given me, was not around my neck. I cried softly when I realised I must have dropped it somewhere along the way and now it was probably lost forever.

Finally, finally, we got there just as the sun as about to set on the second day I had been away. I could barely wait for him to stop, so slow had his driving been, so impatient I was, and so afraid, terribly afraid for my beautiful husband. I jumped down from the cart and threw my purse of money at the sullen farmer, not bothering to say thank you, and then raced through the streets, my hair wild and streaming like fire, my skirts torn and ragged, my feet bleeding. I ducked hastily through Paquette's tavern, waving briefly to her and Cosette, and then I was in the Court running for all I was worth to our tent.

As I got closer I could hear my babies crying, and I burst in, breathing hard and looking about me frantically. Both Colombine and Abigail was there, the former leaping to her feet as I entered, the latter gasping in shock, as she nursed my babes close to here. Colombine rushed over to me, I pushed past her to run my hands over my children's heads tenderly.

"Herli, where on earth have you been??" she cried.

"Where is Clopin??" I asked her, not seeing him anywhere. Abigail and she looked at each other worriedly and then back at me.

"Where is he?" I said again and Abigail sighed sadly.

"Sit down child. I'll tell you as quickly as I can."

I will now recount the tale as she told it to me.

"Clopin arrived home two evenings ago to find you and your babes nowhere abouts. He came down to my tent to enquire after you and grew worried when he saw that you had placed the children under my care.

"Did Herli tell you where she went?" he asked me.

"No" I replied. "I was under the impression she would not be gone long. When she did not return I assumed she was with you. It is not normally like her to leave them with me so long unless she is caught up elsewhere."

"Clopin's brow furrowed with worry and he took the children back to your tent. I went with him, knowing he would not know how to change them or attend to them. We passed several hours, the both of us growing more and more anxious. We could not understand how you would not have sent word to us, why you would not have told us where you went, and so we came to think something terrible had befallen you. It was long past the hour of midnight when the spy Jenessa brought us news.

"We learned that Frollo had been attacked during the night, what he believed to be the direct result of gypsy magik. He has apparently claimed that a tiger fur he keeps as a rug rose up from the ground and clawed him. He has the cuts across his chest to prove it."

I broke in here. "Of course! I was standing directly in front of the fire, he must not have been able to see me beneath the pelt! That was Chester's skin!"

She nodded and continued. "We gathered as much, for Frollo had learned from Isabelle the Gypsy King's wife came from India, doubtless he presumed the tiger slaughtered in the streets that day was yours.

"Clopin asked where you were and Jenessa grew confused. She had thought her information to be another bounty on your head, but when Clopin told her you were missing she recounted to us how you had asked questions about the security on the Palace. Here we guessed you had entered the Palace, but did not understand the part of the magik, for we knew you did not know that type. Clopin hammered Jenessa for news but all she could say is that Frollo's wrath was being brought down on the Gypsy Queen for possessing the dead tiger. We assumed the worst. That very night Clopin gathered some men and went to the dungeons through our secret way. They searched as long as they could safely, but found no trace of you. Clopin was in a panic, and the men had to drag him back down. We passed a stressful day, in which Clopin's fear grew to rage. He guessed Frollo was hiding you somewhere else, trying to bring the Gypsy King out of hiding so he could butcher you both.

"I'll come out of hiding alright!" Clopin raged. "And when I do that damn Judge will wish I had stayed hidden!"

And leaving the babes in my care he went to the Court Centre."

Here Colombine took over the story.

"Clopin got up on the stage and called all the men of the Court to him. "My friends, Claude Frollo has once again declared war on our people, but this time he has tried to tip the scales in his favour by taking prisoner our own dear Queen!! He wants us to come out of hiding and fight back, what do you say to that my friends?"

Christophe, our own dear butcher, spoke up. "I say we come out of hiding and fight back for our Queen!" and the others took him up on this chant.

"Herli, if ever I have felt attracted to your husband it was right then, as he stood looking out over the Court! Not even the King of France himself decked out in all his finest finery could have looked as powerful and imposing as Clopin Trouillefou did right then, and Clopin had only his dirty tunic and old feathered hat! He smiled with those beautiful teeth of his, that tall body throwing a longer silhouette over the back of the stage, and clasped his hands together.

"Then let's go, I say!" he cried "Let's gather arms and go!"

"We spent the day gathering what weapons we could, and organising our battle strategy. Things would've been well had Clopin not got drunk! I could see he was drinking too much and tried to stop him, but he was so afraid for you Herli! It wasn't enough that we were fighting, he was afraid we were already too late! He couldn't walk steadily when we went to fight, though he made a brave show of it, the first to enter the Palace as the sun fell, holding his sword up high! I hope I have a man to fight for me like that one day, Frederick is sweet, but so timid! The guards rushed upon us, but they were ill-prepared and we outnumbered them, thankfully! It was a terrific mess, and all took place in that big cold hall inside the Palace! I'd never seen it before and never want to again, I assure you! At any rate by the time we'd finished there were men on both sides down, and several of ours unaccounted for. Oh Herli - Clopin was one of them!!"

I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding wildly. I should have known!! Colombine began to cry and Abigail's eyes were misty.

"Oh Herli, we don't know if he's even alive or dead!" she sobbed to me. I remembered the terror I had felt during the night. It had not wholly left me. "He is not dead. He lives still." I said calmly. "I know this."

They looked at me and slowly, one after the other, they nodded. I sighed miserably.

"I can't believe all this trouble I have caused, and I was doing so well! I went to dispose Chester's skin in a manner he deserved. I had no idea this would happen!" Although I knew my beloved lived still, I was well aware there had been much pain and heartache that could easily have been avoided. "But I don't understand - Clopin has never needed to expend effort to know where I am!! Why did he not know now?" I turned to Abigail beseechingly. She thought for a few moments.

"You say you were disposing of the skin of your friend? In that case you must've been reliving some grief?" I nodded. That was certainly true. "Then it's possible that's why Clopin couldn't reach you. You were trapped on another plane for the time. That's also probably why he panicked so - he couldn't sense your presence, he might've thought you were dead or in great agony!!"

It made sense. "And then, when I had finished the rite over Chester's body I was immediately aware when Clopin encountered trouble - that's why I got up in the middle of the night to run home!"

They stared at me, amazed. "You ran back to Paris?" Colombine asked me.

"Only a few miles. Then I got a lift."

Their gaze travelled down to my purple, swollen feet, blood and dirt-encrusted. Their eyes widened simultaneously, before rising to meet me again.

"Herli you're absolutely insane," Colombine said at last.

"Not insane. In love. Look this really isn't important. What's important now is that we find Clopin and bring him home before I suffer a heart attack from the stress!!!!"

Abigail nodded "The men are planning another attack later on tonight. You should stay here, you could be - "

"Later tonight isn't fast enough!!!!" I cried. "It's not fast enough! We have to go NOW!! God, not only have many men died at my expense, I have to wait around for my husband to be tortured to death I - " I broke off and bit down hard on my finger to shush my cries. "If only I had said something! People have died because of me!! All for nothing, nothing!"

I flopped down hopelessly and Abigail tapped me hard on the head. "Don't be ridiculous. They won't see it that way. The war against Frollo and his kind of gaje is eternal. Whether you were in the dungeons or not is irrelevant - the battle was still building up anyway. If they did it only in your name and the name of others like you, that is enough. They won't hold you responsible if you don't bring responsibility on yourself for it. Wouldn't you have done the same if it had been another in your position?"

"Yes, but another would've been smart enough to tell people where she was going!!"

Colombine cut in. "Don't be silly Herli. If I were planning to ransack the Palace of Justice, I wouldn't tell anyone! No-one would! All evidence pointed to you being there, that's what the others will think. They didn't have any certainty at all, they chose to attack for your honour, not just your life, as they would for any gypsy! Now stop being silly! I thought we'd gotten over all this melodrama and arguments."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I didn't entirely agree with them, but so long as the rest of my people did not regret the attack I could deal with it. I just hoped they truly believed it worth it. But there were more pressing matters to attend to right then, and rushing to Clopin's chest I rummaged through it until I found his other sword. It was heavy and I buckled it clumsily around my waist while Colombine and Abigail looked at me with astonishment.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing, child?" Abigail's voice was harsh.

"Saving my husband!" was my terse reply. "It's my fault he's there, now I have to save him!"

They shook their heads vigorously, pressing on my arms."No Herli, wait for the men!"

"I'm sick of waiting for men!" I snapped. I kissed my children rapturously on their foreheads as they lay wrapped in Abigail's embrace. "How I love you my darlings! Be strong in your maman and papa's name! I'll see you soon" I embraced Abigail and Colombine. "I love you both. Tell the others not to bother attacking! We don't need to lose more of our people! I'll be back soon!"

I leapt out of the tent before either could say another word.

-----

Wending my way through the catacombs, I came to the trapdoor that led into the dungeons under the Palace. I pushed it open cautiously, oh so cautiously, not knowing if it had been discovered, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when I found the room empty. My blood pounded in my ears, and I could feel my husband nearby, very nearby. I let my heart guide me, taking me through the dark and miserable dungeons, stopping suddenly at the voices of soldiers.

"Tell us, damn you, tell us now!" The sound of a whiplash, and I flinched as it struck flesh. The voice that replied was unmistakeable and caused me to cry as it was hoarse and thick with pain.

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten. What was it you wanted to know again?"

The whip was brought down harder this time, and Clopin couldn't suppress a cry of pain.

"Tell us how to find the Court of Miracles?"

"The Court of Miracles?"

"Yes, Gypsy scum, you know it well!"

"I do?"

Again the whip. "Yes, tell us!!"

Clopin coughed, and my heart gave way. "I'm sorry I've never heard of it, my friends."

"We've had enough of your lip, "Your Majesty". If you don't value your own life, perhaps you value that of your wife's!"

Silence. "If you don't tell us now, we will kill her."

"My wife is not a prisoner here."

"You know yourself she is. You said yourself that's why you attacked. Frollo is keeping her prisoner in his own quarters. If you do not tell us how to find the Court of Miracles we are to send word to him to kill her himself."

Clopin gave a little laugh. "I thought before she was here. I know now she is not."

"Fine, have it your own way, Gypsy King! Emile - go!"

"With pleasure." I heard one of the soldiers leaving, clomping heavily, and I imagine Clopin guessed as I did that that was the moment he was meant to break - meant to cry out "no wait I will tell you!"

But he didn't of course. Then Clopin began to sing with his hoarse, beautiful voice. He sang, ignoring the soldier who made repeated demands for his attention, bringing the whip down again and again, and incensed at the pain they were cursing him I crept forward, pulling the heavy sword from its scabbard. I peeked around the corner and saw them both. The soldier, fat and red-faced, Clopin tied between two wooden beams, a fire raging behind them, the soldier's whip splattered with blood on the ends. But my husband would not give in. His face was quiet and calm as he sang to himself. It was the blood on the whip that got to me then, and making sure I had my sword pointed forward I ran out, straight towards the soldier.

He gave a cry of alarm as I ran forward and went to pull out his own sword, but too late! I hacked it clumsily into his side and he gasped, then knocked me back. I wielded the sword again, just as clumsily, and managed to bring it down on his helmeted head. But it was evidently hard enough to do some damage, for he gave a groan and then collapsed. I dropped the sword over his prostate body and flung my arms around Clopin, who gave a strangled gasp as my thoughtless hands hit his injured back.

"Oh Clopin, I'm so sorry!" I sobbed onto his bloody shoulder.

"Herli - " he gasped "Get out! The other one will be back soon!"

"NO!" I cried, and began to fumble with the leather bonds that bound him to the pillars.

"Herli!" he gasped "Now! Go!"

"Oh, stop trying to be brave!" I snapped at him and then gasped as my hair was yanked from behind and I was spun dizzyingly onto the floor. The other soldier had returned, and found me there. Now he pulled me to my feet again, as I pounded my fists against his heavy armour.

"Hahaha!" He laughed "What have we here? A Gypsy Rat or a Gypsy Queen? I'll wager it's the second, eh your Majesty?"

Clopin didn't answer just glared at him angrily, straining at his bonds.

"Well now, let's see if we can't use the lovely Queen to get the information we want from you!!" He began to push me up against the wall, as I kicked and punched and tried to bite him. He covered my mouth with one large hand and knocked the back of my head against the stone pillars until I was too dizzy to struggle as hard.

"Let her go," Clopin said quietly through gritted teeth.

"Not yet, sir. I've got a job to do, you understand. Now, how about I take my pleasure from her and then behead her in front of you. Will that get you talking? It would be a shame to ruin all this lovely hair, so if you talk I might let her go after the first."

He tried to shove my skirts up but I kept fighting, struggling for all I was worth. He struck me across the face and I fell, Clopin crying out despite himself. He pinned me to the floor, and I tried to kick him between the legs, but he wisely pushed my own apart and kept pushing my skirts up.

"No! Leave her alone! I'll tell you!" Clopin shouted.

"Don't you dare, Clopin!" I gasped out, getting my mouth from beneath the soldier's hand.

"I'll tell you how to get to the Court!" - sounding defeated: one of the only times I ever heard him so.

"Don't be a fool, fool!" I shouted "Don't you dare tell him!"

"Tell me and I'll spare her all of it!" The soldier leered "Though I've no doubt she's used to this kind of thing, being nothing but a gypsy whore."

I gasped in fury and tried again to free myself. Clopin strained angrily at his bonds once more, but then stopped. "Just let her up and I'll tell you," he sighed wearily.

The soldier laughed triumphantly. "First tell me!"

"NO, CLOPIN!" I shouted again "Don - "

But my voice was cut off by the sound of a vicious snarling. I stopped my struggles as well when I heard it, and Clopin too looked up, astonished and alarmed. The three of us paused in mid-action, looking about us in wonderment to discover where this beast's cry came from. The soldier looked up and beyond me then, and I saw a look of terror come over his face. He sat up, releasing his grip on me and thrusting his hands in front of his face.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"NOOO!" he screamed. Though I wondered what could frighten him so I took advantage of his fear. Shoving him back, I pulled my dagger from under my skirts and drew it quickly across his throat, screaming in horror as a spray of blood hit my face. But the soldier fell back, the wound gaping openly like a horrific smile, and I pushed him completely off me. The snarling sound stopped and I turned around to face the beast that had saved us. I saw nothing there - except - a flash of white fur and gentle pink eyes that vanished as if in thin air. I looked in wonderment, feeling strangely moved, and felt tears fall down my cheeks.

But I stopped for only a moment before running forward to cut Clopin's bonds with my dagger, holding his heavy body as it sagged forward in my arms. He wrapped his naked arms around me and we held onto one another, our tears mingling with our blood. We looked at one another to kiss before understanding it was time to move on.

"Wait" I said, stopping again.

"What is it?" He asked me, his voice tired, his eyes bloodshot.

I picked up an axe that leaned on the wall.

"This is the only way I know how to repay the debt for the men we lost thanks to my foolishness," I explained to him. Taking up the axe, I struck down the doors of all the dungeons, releasing the prisoners within. They streamed out, their bloody, mangled bodies fighting against one another, rushing up the dungeon stairs to break down the Palace's doors and be free.

Clopin and I on the other hand, took the trapdoor down to the Court, smiling at one another lovingly and holding hands as we made our way back home.

-----

I had only been gone a half hour, and the look of amazement on Colombine and Abigail's face when I returned with our King - both of us bloody and beaten and filthy dirty, our clothes hanging off us in ragged tatters - made us both laugh and cling to one another. Colombine waited only a moment to calm herself before racing around the Court to scream that the King and Queen had returned, safe and sound!

So even though we were dirty and tired, we were obliged to go to the Centre and celebrate with the others. We clung to one another tiredly, for dear life, smiling, no explanations necessary for either of us. Colombine and Abigail had been right - the others did not care that I had not been a prisoner. They believed they did the right thing no matter, and considered my debt repaid when I risked life to free the King. I proudly told all how Clopin would not give in under torture, and he proudly told them how I'd fearlessly freed the prisoners like an avenging angel and I laughed and told him not to be metaphorical.

Later on we repeated impassioned vows of love, needing each other to understand just how much we would be prepared to sacrifice for the other. We needed to say it, although words seemed so inadequate. We have matured enough now not to need to say it - all we need to do is look at each other and it's there in our eyes for all the world to see.

We cleaned each other up, although he bears scars to this day, and my feet cause me pain in the cold. I kept the dress I had worn on those two days, although it was no longer wearable. Sometimes I get it out still and look at it with a smile.

You can well imagine we were unable to leave the Court for a terrific amount of time. Frollo was furious - religious superstition made him truly believe the tiger had come to life before him and attacked him. He also believed it was this same tiger that freed Clopin and robbed him of his victory over the romani. As for the snarling beast that saved Clopin and I that night - I do not know, although my heart tells me it was Chester, watching over me as he always did.

The pressure to capture us was so intense that many Romani were forced to leave Paris altogether for the next few months. No grudge was borne, they though it greatly amusing that Frollo should be caused to so tear his hair out. Clopin and I stayed underground in the Court, sneaking out mainly at night. Clopin again busied himself with the development of the Court and I concerned myself wholly with the development of my children, guiding them as they grew.

A few months after our exciting battle with Frollo I was hiding under my cloak in the tavern, grinning and feeling very reckless - Clopin would kill me if he'd knew I'd snuck out - having a drink with Cosette (who'd grown amazingly since associating with Colombine and myself - although she was still very shy and timid, she now laughed more and was more adventurous) when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

My heart leapt and I grabbed the dagger beneath my cloak and turned to face the man who stood there - to my absolute amazement it was the farmer who had first so kindly given me a ride to the field where I said my final goodbyes to Chester.

"Bonsoir, Madame" he said smiling at me. I nodded to him and returned his greeting in kind.

"I can't believe I've been so fortunate to find you! I knew one day that I must - but imagine, my first trip to Paris in many months, and by pure luck, here in this tavern!"

I forced a laugh, nervous though I sensed his intentions were not malicious. "What on earth could you want with me, Monsieur?"

"Well - I believe it is with you, though I couldn't tell you why. It's the strangest thing, Madame. Just a few days after I took you to your field, I had the shock of my life - an enormous white cat was coming up the path towards me! My horse stopped in terror and it was all I could to keep hold on her. Anyway, this great beast came right up towards me, and spat something out on the floor of my cart! Then he looked straight up at me, and never such an expression have I seen in the eyes of a beast before! Then he turned and galloped away! It took me a few moments to get over it, and I looked down at the floor of my cart and when I looked up - he had vanished! At any rate, Madame, this is what the beast left me. I don't know why I think it is yours, but I can't imagine it belongs to any other."

So saying he drew from his pouch a shimmering object - my pendant!! I gasped and my breath caught in my throat, before I reached out my cupped hands to clasp it. His story had brought tears to my eyes and I trembled as I looked down at my precious pendant. He peered at me curiously.

"I hope I haven't brought you harm, Madame?"

I shook my head, still staring at the pendant in wonder. "Oh no, monsieur. You have brought me a great deal of joy! I thank you, Monsieur. Know that you are a friend of the Gypsies. If ever you need a favour, ask for me. My name is Herlikin. Don't forget it. Goodbye, monsieur."

And with that I rushed out, back down to the Court. I ran towards Clopin who frowned when he saw that I had my cloak on, then looked surprised as I flung myself into his arms.

"LOOK!" I cried, holding my pendant aloft. "It has been found!! It has been brought back to me! This means that we are truly meant to be together."

He laughed, flashing all those gorgeous teeth. "Did you ever doubt?"

"Well, no, but surely you see what this means!!" I cried and hugged him. He knew how grieved I had been at its loss, but we had seemed to be resigned to accepting it. Clopin could obtain other gifts for me, it's true, but this was the first exchanged with real deep love. I was so glad I had it back.

I did not tell him the means by which the Farmer came by the pendant; I kept it a secret to myself. Abigail knew, as she knew everything, and we spoke of it sometimes. Under her guidance I adopted cats as pets and blessed them all in Chester's name. Some of the Romani would laugh as I played with the cats, creeping and leaping about and called me the 'femme chat'.

-----

There is one last dream I should relate here. It began with me again running in the jungles of India, but then I broke free of them and saw before the sgzany encampment, and there was my mama and papa, waiting for me with outstretched arms and huge smiles.

I ran into their arms, crying with joy and we embraced each other fiercely.

"How are you then Madame Sahib?" my papa asked me.

"Behaving yourself we hope!" my mama added.

"Everything is wonderful!" I told them "You were right. I love Clopin and he loves me. I have a son and a daughter - you have grandchildren! Life is wonderful. I am happy. I miss you still, but it does not hurt so much anymore."

They nodded, their smiles wide and joyous. "We're missing you also, but we're happy like this. We're glad things worked out for you. We knew they would, so long as you were sensible. You've made us proud."

We hugged again and then my papa spoke.

"But your husband is waiting for you. You should go back to him."

"Be good," my mama said.

"But not too good!" my papa laughed. And I kissed them both and headed back toward the jungle which turned into Paris immediately upon my entering it. I awoke with a start and Clopin turned to me.

"Anything wrong, cherie?" he asked.

I snuggled happily into his arms. "Nothing at all, my only love. Nothing at all."

-----

But after that there is not much to tell. Actually, I lie, there is a great deal to tell, but I have told the story I set out to. That of how I came to love Paris and call it my home, because of one amazing man - and how I came to love with every breath I had in me, that man also.

Colombine finally accepted that she loved the mysterious young Frederick, and he for one abandoned the gadje life to join our own. Some of our people were reluctant to accept him after Jean-Luc, but Colombine can be very persuasive. Frederick was very sweet, and he adored her no end, heeding her every beck and call. She never would marry him, and I think a great deal of love was attributed to the fact that he was so easily pushed around. He was nice company, though we would often have to liven him up somewhat.

Time passed and the hunt for us relaxed somewhat; we moved about on the streets with more freedom, although still exercising a great deal of caution. Clopin began performing again and so did I. I went on the streets under two visages - the first being my Jester's garb, the second a dancer and animal commander. I had taught Abigail's animals many tricks they gladly came above to do with me. Money was something I never tired of earning, and there were many Parisians - men mostly when I appeared as a dancer - who never tired of giving it to me.

It became my habit to visit the docks when a ship set sail to India, or arrived from that country. Despite my dream I wanted to try and learn anything I could about my parents. I asked the sailors to pass on messages if ever they saw the sgzany tribe. Somehow, my curiosity must have been sensed, for after that my mother began to visit with me now and then in dreams and we would walk and talk together. One year I did not dream of her for many months, and I knew instinctively that she had died. A few months later I was sewing when my heart gave a terrible lurch and for a few moments I was quite out of breath. I started to cry, not knowing why, but then I realised that my father - my wonderful adoring bear of a papa - had joined my mother. That night I cried and Clopin worried terribly, poor thing.

When Harlan and Harlena reached their sixth year, I gave birth again. Twins, once more - two boys which sent Clopin's joy through the roof. He was thrilled when they both had black hair - less thrilled when one was discovered to have blue eyes, the other green. Harlan and Harlena greatly resembled him in a good many ways but Harlan's dark red hair prevented him from being a totally look alike son. Clopin and Ahvel - for such we christened them - also looked much more like me. Their skin was fairer as well. It didn't really matter, for Clopin loved them no less because of it. I know he'd still like a look-alike son, but he wouldn't swap the children we have for all the look-alikes in the world. At the time I tell this tale I am pregnant again - I believe it will be a girl - and ironically - Clopin's look-alike in every way!

-----

A year prior to this a great many things happened, which I've no doubt you all know about. It's quite a famous story, actually. That poor boy that Clopin and I met once in the belltower, then a grown man of twenty years, saved us all from Frollo, whose terrible reign was put to an end in death. In particular rescuing my darling Esmeralda, who at that time was a gorgeous woman of twenty-two, famous now for her dancing, and for her clever little goat Djali. Quasimodo became a friend of the Romani, Clopin much exalting him to all abouts. The precious creature has never known such happiness now he is no longer confined to the belltower, although he rings the bells still, he loves them. To my pleasure he even has a vague recollection of our visit, some eighteen years ago.

He and Esme have grown to be practically inseparable. I was grateful when Esmeralda outgrew the soldier Phoebus. He is a very good man, and remains friends to us still, but far too stuffy for Esmeralda who has been happily influenced by Colombine and I in many ways.

The Gypsies still face much prejudice from the gadje, and probably always will. Now that Frollo is gone however, the pressure and pain inflicted on us is no more. A much better man has been appointed to replace Frollo, and he is concerned only with truth and justice, not his own misguided prejudice. So life has become sweeter for us still.

Abigail and Tante Marie live still, though I fear for Abigail's health. She is growing frailer, and I spend much time making sure she has all the necessary comforts. I don't know what I will do without her when it is finally time for her to go. Tante Marie remains as bossy as ever though she is slower now, and somewhat more placid.

As for Clopin and I - our love for each other has not dissipated in the slightest, but only grown stronger. He is my dearest friend and lover and I his. I know I should die if anything ever happened to him, but growing old with him is something I look forward to. He numbers forty years now, though he barely shows it. He is still as agile and energetic as he was in youth, and as handsome as he always was. His face bears a few lines, his hair is receding slightly, but he can still charm the women effortlessly to my feigned consternation. I myself am thirty-three and as yet unlined, my figure still good, my hair still as long and lustrous and a constant source of joy to him. He still leads our people almost faultlessly and they are crazy about him. My guidance as a queen is not called on very often, which I'm grateful for. Royalty I may be, but first and foremost I am wife and mother, and then trouble-maker, something Colombine is still happy to join in with me. It doesn't sit on my conscience well to cause trouble and then be called on as queen to fix it. That's Clopin's job. But now and then I will help in making decisions which affect us all, meting out punishment or guiding Romani who need it. I still dance and perform now and then, though not so much as I used to. There are so many other things I'm busy with. Clopin remains as popular a performer as he always was, and shows no inclination to retire.

He has always adored children, but even more so now he has some of his own. He is a wonderful father, and they are proud of him. They all live in their own tents, as Clopin insisted they should as soon as they reached their fourth year. Not so much to teach them independence, but to allow us our private moments in peace and without scandalising their young ears. With the concern only a mother can have, I wanted my babes to stay close by as long as I could keep them there; but when Clopin explained that it would be easier for us to enjoy each other without them sleeping next to our bed, I relented. Our two eldest are sixteen, the next two are ten. They are beautiful children, strong and independent, intelligent and fun. I like to flatter myself they love me as much as they do their father, and I try to be always the best mother - supportive and understanding. Each one bears a trait of ours. Harlan has his father's acrobatic skill, Harlena my skill of perception, though hers is practically effortless unlike mine which had to be cultivated. Little Clopin has his father's magnificent voice and Ahvel my skill with animals.

So I reach the end of my tale. I'm sorry I can't tell you what will happen in the future - what adventures will befall us, what sorrows or joys we all may know, but my heart tells me I have a good many happy and exciting years ahead - right up until the night I, lying in my husband's arms, dream a white tiger comes to lead me down my path - the path that leads from this world to the next.


End file.
